


The Price of Time

by Nelzi91



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Romance, Three Year Gap (Dragon Ball), Time Travel, Vegebul
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:47:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 28,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26476699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nelzi91/pseuds/Nelzi91
Summary: A mysterious young warrior arrives from the future to warn the earth’s special forces about the terrible threat of the Androids. The girl also happens to be the spitting image of the blue haired scientist, and sporting a very familiar looking monkey tail… Just who could this Super Saiyan from the future be?*3 Gear Gap - with a twist*Rating went up to E**cross-posted on ffn**
Relationships: Bulma Briefs & Vegeta, Bulma Briefs/Vegeta
Comments: 25
Kudos: 104





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> A Bulma and Vegeta 3-year gap get Together. with a slight twist (AU). Rated for M Coarse Language and Adult Themes.  
> This One just hit me one day, driving home from work (when that was still a regular thing in my daily routine), and well, I couldn’t leave it alone.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Dragon Ball Z, Super or GT or any of the associated characters that appear in this fanfic.

Bulma Briefs stared at the case of Hoi Poi capsules in wonder. It’s pastel pink surface pristine and vibrant. On it, written in Black balloon font outlined with white was her own name: Bulma. Her eyes then drifted to the other case beside it, it should have been identical if not for the obvious signs of age: it’s surface was worn, full of microscopic scratches from years of use, the pink long since faded to orange. And on its cover, the name stencilled was cracked and flaking. It can be said that the two cases represented their two owners. One young and in her prime, the other… well, 15 years of hiding and surviving while the world fell apart around you tended to leave its mark. Her once vibrant teal tresses were now liberally streaked with silver and the lines around her mouth and at the corners of her eyes indicating her years endured in sorrow and despair. Alive, yes, but empty inside. They took almost everything from her, those monsters: Her friends. Her family. Her… The tired scientist blinked back tears, refusing to think of it. Refusing to acknowledge the reason for the gaping hole inside her heart. Instead, anger replaced the desolation. They would pay. She determined. If not in this time, then in the other. She would make sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short, I know, but it’s basically just setting the scene. This One just hit me one day, driving home from work (when that was still a regular thing in my daily routine), and well, I couldn’t leave it alone.


	2. A Mysterious Youth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a beautiful day and Bulma find herself daydreaming about her night-dream featuring a certain Saiyan Prince.  
> Her boyfriend is not impressed. Especially when the star of her fantasy suddenly shows up unannounced. If that wasn't bad enough, his arrival is shortly followed by a scorned and defeated Evil Emperor that has a nasty bone to pick with all of Earth.

Bulma Briefs stared into the clear blue sky, deep in contemplation. As much as she tried she just couldn’t forget about her dream this morning. A dream she, a woman supposedly in love with her handsome reformed bandit boyfriend of 15 years, had no business having. 

To downplay the effect it had on her, she decided to confide in said bandit. 

“He was actually nice to me,” she had said, “and a good kisser to boot.” Yamcha was still busy twitching on the floor, following her confession. In hindsight, not one of her brighter ideas for someone who’s supposed to be a genius. She didn’t know why she blurted out the content of her dream so callously to her boyfriend. Thank goodness she stopped there. Her dream certainly hadn’t, she thought, recalling with perfect clarity the sensation of his big calloused hands running over her sweat slicked skin. _Oh Kami_ , she thought, suddenly feeling flush. I shouldn’t be having thoughts like this about arrogant, mass-murdering, not to mention RUDE Saiyan jerks.

Would he be returning? She wondered, after all, her father said he should be running out of fuel any day now. What will he do when he realizes Goku isn’t back yet? Probably go out searching again. She sighed.

Bulma glanced at Yamcha. Maybe she was just bored, she mused. After all, things have been quiet after the whole Namek fiasco and Bulma was someone that craved adventure. Maybe she subconsciously wanted to bait him. He’s been so sickeningly sweet ever since his resurrection, never arguing with her or calling her on her shit even when she knew she was being a bitch. Another sigh. One would think that after 15 years she would already have a ring on her finger and a couple of rugrats running around. I mean, for Kami’s sake she was already 31. She was ready for the great adventure that is motherhood. It just… never seemed the right time, with threat after threat making itself known on their small blue planet. Villains coming and going, all unoriginally bent on gaining immortality then ruling or destroying the planet. All of them being defeated by Goku. Then the threats became intergalactic and Yamcha died, but the cycle continued. When he wasn’t off training for or fighting the next big threat, he was the sweetest and most caring and attentive boyfriend. Especially after a near death (or in this case, an actual death then resurrection) experience. It lasted only until after a successful baseball season, then the groupies came flooding in and mister sweet and attentive turned into mister wandering eyeballs. He never cheated, at least not that she knew of, but he looked, and somehow, she just couldn’t bring herself to commit. This dream, maybe it’s a sign that she was ready to move on with her life.

Bulma was snapped out of her reverie when Yamcha suddenly stood up. His abrupt action was shortly followed by an earth-trembling crash that nearly knocked her off her balcony perch. Yamcha immediately leapt from the balcony. She followed his descent until her eyes found the dinged up but still intact hull of Capsule 3: Vegeta’s stolen Gravity Chamber SpaceShip. He was back. Bulma’s heart fluttered in fear and a little bit of excitement, a sensation she had already associated with dealing with the Saiyan Prince. The sensation immediately morphed into real fear as she saw that dimwit getting into a fighting stance as the gravity chamber’s doors opened. “You’re going to get yourself killed, Yamcha.” she muttered under her breath as she ran to do damage control. 

Her fears were confirmed when she rounded the corner to find the two warriors antagonizing each other. Vegeta took a menacing step towards her boyfriend. She had to do something fast.

“Pee-yoo! What is that smell?” she exclaimed, sauntering in between her boyfriend and the irate Saiyan. “Oh it’s you.” She said, daring to stop before him. 

“Wha-’’ he sputtered, seemingly at a loss for words. As long as his attention was on her and not her suicidal boyfriend, she thought, slightly relieved. Her heart was pounding as she poked his breastplate before crooking her finger in a come-hither motion. “You need a bath.” she continued, channeling her mother’s flirtatious nature before spinning around and sauntering off again, putting a little extra sway in her shapely hips. She held her breath as she heard his growl,and paused. “Well? What are you waiting for?” she snapped sassily, “for me to roll out the red carpet?” Shortly afterward she heard his footsteps trail her, muttering what was probably alien expletives, with every step. She tried, she really did, but she couldn’t keep the smug grin off her face as she led the Saiyan Prince to the washrooms. She even dared a sly wink to her flabbergasted boyfriend. Yep, Bulma Briefs, even with this ridiculous perm you had no business getting, you still got it, she thought vainly.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you did back there, Woman.” Vegeta suddenly spoke as they entered the compound.

Bulma laughed nervously. “Wha – what do you mean, Vegeta?” she played dumb.

“You were trying to protect that weak excuse of a warrior. He was on the battlefield when I first came to this pathetic mudball. He was killed by the Saiba, if I recall correctly.” He added with a snort. “Can you be more of a loser” he mused to himself before adding, “You carry his scent. Is he your mate?” 

The question was so serious, and downright civil for Vegeta who seemed genuinely interested, that Bulma was stunned silent for a beat. In the short time he stayed with them he did nothing but rudely demand stuff from them his entire stay before stealing their ship to go who knows where.

“I-uh, nothing as permanent” she answered finally, and immediately berated herself for it. I mean, they had been together for 15 years, granted it was on and off, but still. Why did she feel the need to downplay her relationship to Vegeta of all people? She blamed that stupid dream, she thought with a frustrated sigh. 

“So, you just fuck?” he continued his prompting. Bulma felt her cheeks flame. How dare he!

“That’s none of your business! Kami, can you be more crude?” she exclaimed, fanning her face before daring to look back at him. The bastard was grinning like a Cheshire cat. Why that… she simmered, glaring menacingly before turning to continue their journey. 

“I take it you didn’t find Goku.” She asked, effectively changing the subject. He only grunted in reply. “You know, Goku will come back eventually. He always does. Why don’t you stick around here until then?”

“You do realise that my primary objective is to murder that clown, don’t you?” he asked sardonically. 

“You would try.” She simply shrugged. Leaving the implication clear for anyone with half a brain. Bulma suddenly found herself slammed against the corridor wall. Her frightened ‘Eep’ was quickly cut off by a grimy white glove around her throat. He leaned in, his voice low and gravelly as he spoke.

“I can do more than just try, human.” He spat, “I could kill you and everyone on this planet and there’ll be no Kakarot here to stop me.”

Bulma was trembling in his grip with her eyes shut tight as she waited for death to take her. She had become complacent in his inactivity it seems, and in her error, treated him like she would any ally and let her smart mouth get away from her. Bulma was cursing her own stupidity in believing him anything but a savage. That is, until she noticed that she breathed with no difficulty. His hand was around her throat, slightly constricting, but not really hurting. She popped one eye open, then the other. Since they were roughly the same height, they were eye to eye. Instead of the black empty pits of a true psychopath, his eyes burned with a fiery rage. Rage, Bulma thought, she could work with. Indifference, not so much. Carefully lifting a hand towards his, she touched the forearm of the hand holding her. His muscles seemed to jump at the contact.

“What’s stopping you then?” she whispered, carefully. He snarled at her, tightening his grip. Bulma gasped, feeling her airways constricting.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you, wench.” He said, seemingly satisfied as he watched real fear bleed into her reddening eyes as he gradually cut off her oxygen. Then just as quickly, Bulma felt her knees hit the ground as he released her. After spending a few moments getting oxygen into her lungs, Bulma lifted her head to glare defiantly at the Saiyan above her. He was standing, legs apart and arms crossed tightly over that broad chest, and from her position at his feet, those tight spandex really did leave nothing to the imagination. Great Kais above, why did this grade-A specimen have to be such a complete Asshole. The universe is so unfair.

“You’re a dick” she swore, getting to her feet.

“You’d do well to remember that, little earthling, before you run your disrespectful mouth at me again.” With that, he turned and walked away from her, finding the shower on his own. She didn’t bother to tell him the washroom he found was in her own living suite. “Self-entitled Prick,” she muttered before heading off to go find him clothes. She at first was tempted to leave him in his stinky spandex and armour, but was afraid that he might do something crazy, like walk out in the nude to demand clean clothes, and Bulma was way too curious to see if the Saiyan… erm, measured up in reality to the one in her dream. Far too curious indeed. So she tossed the rank clothes in the washer. Better to leave those waters untested, she resolved with a nod. The man was obviously mentally unstable. Besides, there were ways to get revenge that was much less hazardous to her health and sanity, she thought as she held up the pink button up shirt, cackling with glee. Dashing off to her computer, Bulma added the final touches to the Prince’s outfit, before placing it on the counter top.

They were all having a good laugh at the pink and lime clad Saiyan Prince. Yamcha all but fell out of his chair when he read the words screen printed on the back of the shirt while Bulma made a crack about how much it suited him. Then Vegeta had to go ruin it by threatening to blast them all. Honestly, Bulma thought, the guy really had no sense of humor. Would it kill him to lighten up? She pouted.

What started as a nice sunny day, barbequing on the balcony soon went to hell in a hand basket. Frieza was coming to earth and their chances of survival looked pretty bleak, judging from the terrified expressions on the Z-fighters’ and even Vegeta’s face, before they took off to Kami knows where again. Bulma gave a frustrated growl as she watched their energy trails disappear into the horizon. Yamcha was busy hovering in the air, getting ready to launch when Bulma yelled out:

“Don’t you dare, Yamcha!” He paused, glanced in her direction and flinched at the fierce look on her face. 

“Babe, what’s wrong?”

“If you think I’m going to sit here and wait for the planet to explode while you guys are making your last stand, you got another thing coming, Mister. Now pick me up and let's go.” she demanded, jumping up to catch him around his neck. He immediately adjusted their position, gripping her under the knees. She caught the mischievous twinkle in his eye right before his hand inched upwards to tickle her upper thighs.

“Yamcha!” she gasped, squirming and dislodging that wondering digits. “The world might be ending; this is no time to be getting frisky!”

“This is the perfect time to be getting frisky.” He countered, fingers reaching the seam on her panties. She dropped one arm to swat at his hand. Yamcha quickly steadied her when she lost her balance.

“just fly, you goof.” She laughed. 

“Alright.” He said, and off they were.

To be honest, Bulma was a bit disappointed at his easy acquiescence. She reflected, on their way to the landing sight. Sometimes she wished he would be just a little more take charge in the bedroom department. Oh well, she sighed to herself. She couldn’t have it all.

They set down on a barren, rocky wasteland, for which Bulma was grateful as that meant no civilian casualties. She knew objectively what type of work Vegeta did for the Galactic Emperor, but it would be another thing to witness the realities of it. Especially on her own planet

* * *

Vegeta observed his surroundings, the familiar landscape sending a thrum of battlelust though his blood. This would be his final stand, he realised. It was oddly comforting, he realised. He would die a good death. A warrior’s death in an environment that reminded him so much of his own home planet. Dry and arid, hardy like his people.

“It seems Frieza has landed just a few kilometers north of here,” the Namekian said as they all gathered, “What’s the plan?”

“Are you kidding me?” the scar-faced weakling exclaimed as he landed, with the woman herself hanging from his neck. “We have no chance against this guy. His energy is… astronomical” 

“Coward” Vegeta snorted.

“Well excuse me for not wanting to be dead again, Vegeta.” he defended hotly.

“Nobody wants to be dead again” Piccolo answered, “but unfortunately we don’t have the luxury of sitting on our asses while Frieza and his goons go on a rampage. We must fight.”

What the hell was she doing there? Vegeta wondered. Catching a glance of the blue haired woman.

A new sentient energy suddenly spiked off in the distance toward where Frieza landed and Vegeta became momentarily distracted trying to pinpoint the new person. As fast as it came, however, it was suddenly gone, taking most of the lower levelled fighters with it. What the? Vegeta noted that the Namekian was also frowning towards the landing sight. He felt it too, it. The others were seemingly preoccupied by Bulma’s presence.

“...wasn’t going to let you guys have all the fun” he caught the tail end of the conversation. “Besides, I didn’t really have a chance to see Frieza on Namek. I wanted to see what the fuss is about.”

He had to give it to her, Vegeta thought, this weak earthling female had more courage than a lot of warriors a hundred stronger than her. Even her own ‘not-permanent’ mate. Then again, he thought with a snort, these earthlings were all spoiled by the existence of their precious dragon balls. Death seemed to be a temporary state of being for them so they don’t have the good sense to fear it. 

The earth suddenly started to tremble, the mysterious power spike started skyrocketing, reaching and then in an instant surpassing the power level of Frieza.

“It can’t be…” Vegeta heard himself mutter. 

“That power.” Gohan said, “That’s a super saiyan. That’s my dad! He’s back.”

“Woah!” Scarface exclaimed. “Intense”

“That’s not Goku!” Piccolo yelled. Vegeta didn’t wait any longer. He blasted off towards the massive ki. He was followed shortly by the rest of the fighters. Rage was simmering deep in his gut. A super saiyan? Impossible. There was no way he would see another claim his birthright, It’s bad enough that the third class managed to attain it while he lay, broken and bleeding out on the ground. As he crested the mountain and beheld the spectacle occurring in the air just past its peak, the utter absurdity of what he saw made him stop dead in his tracks. Before he could even process everything that was wrong with the picture, he saw Frieza be completely split in half, then chopped into pieces, then turned into ash by a ball of ki. It was over in less than a blink.

The ki had come from the hand of a female adolescent, glowing brightly with a golden aura. Even her tail was gold. Yes, that was a fucking Saiyan tail that was bathed in the gold of the super saiyan. A girl Super Saiyan. All his strength seemed to leave him at once and Vegeta fell from the sky. Landing hard on his knees.

“This is a nightmare,” he muttered. This had to be a nightmare. As if in a daze he watched the girl quickly dispatch King Kold and then blast their skip into kingdom come shortly afterward. The earth warriors, who have all since landed close by seemed similarly stunned. The youth landed and looked around her, catching sight of their group. She smiled. Not a malicious grin, or a smug smirk, but an honest to goodness smile that somehow reminded him of the blue haired woman. 

The girl exhaled and her power faded. Her hair falling limp and turning… BLUE? 

The same blue as the Woman’s. Something very strange was definitely going on here and he wasn’t the only one to think that.

“Uh.. Is it just me, or does that girl look a lot like a younger Bulma?” Krillen asked.

The girl cocked her head to the side, her brown tail catching Vegeta’s eye as it swayed lazily to and fro then wrapped itself securely around her waist. 

“Uhm, sooo Goku’s is arriving in about two hours. I’m gonna head over to meet him. You guys obviously have questions. If you follow me, I’ll do my best to answer them all.” The girl spoke for the first time, addressing them all. Her voice was high-pitched, confirming her youth. Her eyes wandered to Vegeta, lingered a bit and moved on before she took off into the sky.

The gaggle of earth warriors followed, the Saiyan prince being the most perturbed of them all.


	3. A Warning From the Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The identity of the mysterious youth is revealed, along with an ominous warning from the future.

_ Well _ , Bulma thought as she clung to Yamcha,  _ things definitely took a turn for the weird back there. _

First Frieza shows up and everyone had resolved themselves to being dead meat, then suddenly, a doppelganger that doesn’t even look old enough to have graduated middle school shows up and makes mincemeat of the most feared creature in the galaxy. A doppleganger that happens to be a Saiyan. ‘Weird’, Bulma decided, is probably an understatement.

Another peculiar coincidence Bulma noticed about the mysterious youth is that she seemed to be affiliated with Capsule Corp too, judging by the logo on her indigo jacket. Had her father been dabbling in genetics again? Because if that was the case she would be majorly pissed. How dare he not include her in his experimental process, she fumed. 

The flight didn’t take long. Soon they were touching down at another section of the wastelands. The girl surprised them all though, when she took out an orange-pink plastic case, and flipped the lid to reveal some capsules. Selecting one, she depressed the clip and tossed it a few feet away. The smoke cleared to reveal a miniature refrigerator. 

“Anyone for some Soda?” her mini-clone asked.

Vegeta was suddenly in the girl’s face.

“Listen, brat. You’re going to tell us exactly what you are how you’re affiliated with Kakarot”

To the girl’s credit, she didn’t shrink back in fear, nor did she lash out either - given that she was probably the strongest person on the planet. She just grinned at Vegeta before popping the tab on her drink and taking a swig.

“Well,” she started, apparently sufficiently refreshed, “To answer the first part of your question: I’m a Saiyan. Half, actually.”

“Like me?” Gohan asked.

“Yes, Gohan, like you.”

“Oh cool… wait, how did you know my name.”

“I know all of you guys, but I’ll get into that soon.” she said, turning back to Vegeta. “As for how I know Goku: well, I’ve never met him.”

“Then how do you know the exact location and time he’ll be arriving, girl?” Vegeta prompted further.

“Because I’m from the future.”

It was silent for a few beats as they all seemed to absorb the ramifications of that statement.

“Get out of town!” Krillen exclaimed his disbelief, but Bulma suddenly asked:

“How far in the future? “From our obvious resemblance, we must be related, yes?”

“Wait, Babe, don’t tell me you believe her. I mean, ‘from the future’, that’s crazy talk. Time travel is not possible” Yamcha cut in.

“Actually,” Bulma replied, “I’ve been working on a theory for some time now… One where our current reality is but a single dimension in a multidimensional existence of Space-time. If I, or my offspring somehow expounded on this theory and figured out a way to travel between these dimensions, well… I’d say it’s possible that we could have a time traveller standing before us right now. The question that I have then is.. why now at this point in time? Why are you here?”

“It can’t be anything good, that’s for sure.” muttered Piccolo.

“What _ I _ want to know is who contributed to your Saiyan half. I mean, there are only two Saiyan left in existence: Vegeta and Goku.” Krillen asked.

As the group stared at Vegeta, their eyes shifted towards Bulma and it suddenly dawned on her:

“You have got to be kidding me!” she exclaimed. At the same time Vegeta was shouting

“Oh hell no! Not in this lifetime!”

“I wouldn’t be caught dead-

“As if I’d ever sink so low-

As they were screaming their simultaneous denials, Bulma caught a glimpse of her boyfriend’s face. He was white as a sheet. Poor Yamcha, she thought. 

Taking a deep breath, Bulma attempted to settle her nerves to speak again,

“How far into the future did you say you were?” Bulma asked, her voice trembling slightly.

“I didn’t.” the time traveller said, “Although, since you asked. I’m from twenty years in the future.” 

“And how old are you?”

“14”

“That must mean: you’re my…”

“Daughter. Yes.”

“And Vegeta?”

“Is my father.”

“Oh Kami” she said, feeling suddenly queasy. She glanced at Vegeta, he was standing with his back towards them, arms crossed tightly over his chest.

“How?” she heard Krillen ask. Bulma watched the girl raise an insolent eyebrow at the ex-monk and from the expression, she could suddenly note the resemblance between the girl and surly saiyan that was likely busy pretending that this conversation wasn’t happening. Krillen blushed. “Oh gosh, I didn’t mean that!” he clarified. “I mean, Bulma is dating Yamcha. How is it she had a kid with Vegeta.”

“Hey!” Bulma yelled, “I resent that! I didn’t have a kid with anybody... yet.”

“Future you then” Krillen corrected.

“Don’t worry Momma,” what happens in this timeline has no influence on my own. The girl answered. Bulma’s chest jumped at the title. She didn’t even know this girl's name and yet, being called ‘Momma’. It warmed something within her. She always wanted a daughter. She mused. 

“I won’t necessarily be born in this timeline. The future’s not set in stone. Only the past. And I was getting to that, Krillin.” the girl continued. She took a deep breath and her next word completely froze the warm and fuzzies bubbling in Bulma's chest. “In three years time, on May 12, Dr. Gero is going to activate his latest accomplishment in Android technology. These androids will then proceed to kill their creator and go on a rampage, destroying everyone and everything that catches their unholy interest. The planet will become desolate in less than a year. Billions of people wiped out on the whim of a pair of homicidal Cyborgs.”

“No way!” Krillen yelled, while they all stood frozen on the spot.

“What about dad?” asked Gohan.

“Yeah, Goku always manages to save us. Are you telling me these things are stronger than a super saiyan?” Krillen asked.

“Yes. They are. And unfortunately Goku contracts a virus that affects his heart. It seemed to be tailored to affect Saiyans only. He dies a few months before the Androids are unleashed. Momma had been working on a cure when he died. She managed to get a working antidote, but it was too little too late. She suspected the virus was also created by Gero, but there was no proof. Anyway, she vaccinated my uh... me. At birth. She also administered it to my father. Here,” the girl said, reaching for the breast pocket on her jacket. She pulled out a small brown glass bottle. “This is the vaccine.” she told Bulma, handing it to her. “You can reverse engineer it if you like.”

“I was told to tell you that this won’t prevent Goku from contracting the virus, but it would help him survive it. Everyone with Saiyan blood should be vaccinated.” She ended, looking pointedly at Vegeta’s turned back, then at Gohan.

“Thank you.” Bulma said, accepting the gift.

“What about the rest of us?” Piccolo asked. “I assume I die since you wouldn’t be here, warning us if the dragon balls were still active.”

“Yes, Piccolo-sama. You die. All of you do, except Master Roshi, Chichi and my father.”

“So I’m still alive?” Vegeta asked, a smug grin on his face. “I’m not surprised. There’s no way a bunch of tin cans can defeat the Prince of All Saiyan!” he exclaimed, following the proclamation with an evil cackle, but as Bulma turned her gaze back to the time traveller. she saw that the girl was staring at her toes, and noticed her fists were clenched, knuckles turning white. Ah.. so Vegeta died as well. She guessed, a bit saddened by the thought as it appeared this young girl really cared for the Saiyan. 

“Girl, what’s your name?” Bulma asked softly. She watched the girl’s shoulders rise and fall with another deep breath. She looked up, her watery gaze catching Bulma’s.

“Bra. My name is Bra Eschalot Briefs.

“I’ve always liked that name for a girl.” Bulma remarked.

“Eschalot is a fine Saiyan name.” Vegeta said and Bulma’s surprised gaze swiveled to the Saiyan Prince. He was watching Bra with a strange expression.

_ Interesting _ . She thought. 

“I don’t get it though.” Krillen cut in, “If warning us about this threat won’t change your future, why bother with it?”

“We need to find a way to destroy these monsters.” Bra’s tone suddenly brimmed with hatred. “Our last hope of defeating them in my timeline died with Papa.”

‘Wait... what?” Vegeta said, his tone bewildered.

“I’m too young to continue the fight, especially on my own.“ Bra continued, ignoring Vegeta, “ I’m nowhere near as strong as Papa was, but even he couldn’t…” Bra sighed then looked away, attempting to compose herself. “My mom said that if brute strength won’t kill them, we need a different approach. So she left you her research. All the information she had gathered about the androids over the years is in capsule 6 in your Hoi Poi case.” she said, speaking to Bulma.

“What? Bulma asked, fishing out her own capsule case. “But Capsule 6 is my submarine.”

“It used to be.” Bra answered, “Mama switched it during her initial testing of the time machine. She knew you wouldn't know the difference since you rarely use that one.”

As Bulma moved to depress the capsule, she felt something sharp prick her finger and immediately dropped the capsule to scrutinize her thumb. 

“It can only be opened with your DNA,” Bra clarified, “for security reasons. The spike on the top was just to gather a blood sample.”

“You could have warned me.” Bulma complained, sucking on the injured digit, but her injury was soon forgotten as the Capsule erupted, revealing a life-sized holographic image of herself… her much older self, Bulma noticed. 

Future Bulma looked at them, eyes seemingly catching their own before swivelling to Bulma again.

“Hello everyone.” she spoke. “I take it since this Capsule has been activated, Bra has succeeded in her mission.” Future Bulma paused, scanned through them again and said, “Although, I do not see Goku present.”

“Sorry, B. I got a bit ahead of myself. Goku should be here soon.” Bra said, speaking directly to the hologram.

“That’s alright dear. It shouldn’t have any detrimental effect on the mission.” 

“Amazing” Krillen commented, watching the image with awe. “Can she actually see us? Are we speaking to Bulma in the future?” He asked Bra, but was answered by holo-Bulma instead.

“No, actually. I may look like her, but I’m actually the Artificially Intelligent Personal Assistant system that Bulma developed ten years ago, using an image of herself for the prototype. You may address me simply as ‘B’ if you wish. Bulma has made a recording. I shall proceed to play it now.” holo-Bulma then turned back to present Bulma, her demeanor shifting from blank to visibly weary in an instant.

“So, I don’t know how much my daughter has told you so I’ll start from the beginning:

The earth is facing a grave threat. In your time right now, Dr Gero is busy developing the most dangerous weapons in mankind’s history. These weapons will be unleashed on May 12th, in the year 767. They are strong - stronger than a super saiyan and have practically a limitless supply of energy generated from a small internal reactor within their bodies. The Saiyans will need to reach a level beyond super saiyan to compromise the defenses of these creatures. All research gathered at this stage points to the theory that these androids were originally born human, but have been enhanced by artificial organs and biomechanical nanite technology. They’ve been known to regrow limbs. We suspect that only decapitation or destroying their energy source would kill them. Beware however, they also have a self-destruct function. If any of you succeed in overpowering them, kill them quickly. Before they get a chance to activate it.” here Future Bulma she paused, a frown scrunching her brow. She took a deep breath before continuing.

“Before...” she started, voice cracking a bit. She took a deep breath and cleared her throat. “Before Vegeta’s death. He confided in me that there is another level. A level beyond Super saiyan. He felt it, but I don’t think he was able to attain it. He must have posed enough of a threat though, because Seventeen self-destructed. Vegeta was killed in the resulting blast. Android 18 still lives, but she seems to be off sulking somewhere. There’s been no sightings in the five months since…” future Bulma sighed heavily. “It seemed like a good opportunity to get some real work done. So I built a time machine. I do not know how much longer we’ll have this calm. The only thing that I know and care about is that my daughter is safe and alive. She’ll be helping you in the fight against the androids in three years time. Make the most of your time until then, and prepare well. Also, don’t forget to vaccinate the Saiyans. The half-breeds too. Maybe with Goku alive, things won’t turn out so bad. Train hard and good Luck...” The holo-Bulma paused, then her expression changed again to the pleasantly blank expression of her AI system.

“End of recording,” holo-Bulma stated. “I’m available if you have any further questions regarding the information gathered on the Androids. My data includes video recordings and various voice recordings, research notes, blueprints and digitally stored genetic samples. Thank you for your time.” Then, hollow-Bulma disappeared back into the Console laying harmlessly on the rocky ground. Bulma simply stared at it.

“A level beyond super saiyan…” she heard Vegeta say in a slightly dazed voice. Then: “Brat, you say that I’ve reached the level of super saiyan in your time. Tell me how it was done.”

“I only know what you - what my dad told me when I asked the same question. Though I do not think you’re going to like the answer.” Bra answered.

“Tell me!” he yelled.

“Geez Vegeta!” Bulma exclaimed. “Take it easy! She’s just a kid.”

“You stay out of this, woman.” he said, turning towards her to glare in his signature fashion.

“Uh, you’re such a jerk! 

“And you’re a loud-mouthed bitch!”

“I don’t know what must have gone through future-me’s head to have a child with you. Clearly, the grief of losing all my friends and being isolated from society drove me insane.”

“Actually,” Bra cut in. “I’m the second child you two had together in my future. My brother was born before the androids.”

“What!” Vegeta shouted.

“No way!” was Krillen’s contribution.

“Babe?” Yamcha sputtered. He looked heartbroken.  _ Kami, he’s acting as if I already fell into bed with Vegeta,  _ she thought, exasperated.

“Now wait just a minute!” Bulma shouted over everyone’s various expressions of disbelief.

“Why would future-me send her younger child to warn us when you have an older sibling at home? I mean, no offence, but you’re 14.”

“My brother died when he was just a baby. Killed by the androids.” she stated. Everyone was suddenly silent. Bra then turned to Vegeta. “You told me that intense emotional trauma is the only thing that can push a Saiyan over the threshold toward achieving the Super saiyan, coupled with a burning rage that abandons all sense of self-preservation. You told me that it was watching the Andriods murder your infant son that triggered your transformation. They would have killed mom too but you somehow managed to catch 18 by surprise blasting a hole through her center. Momma said that you just missed her reactor that day. 17 took his sister and retreated. You went after them, but since they didn’t have any detectable energy signals, you couldn’t find them. Mother found you three days later, passed out from the damage they inflicted just before your transformation. They were back in fighting form three months later, the hole in 18’s middle almost completely regenerated.”

The silence stretched on.

“What triggered  _ your  _ transformation.” Bulma dared to ask. She already had an idea. Bra didn’t answer for a beat, but when she did she met Bulma eyes, her own shone with that same deep hatred Bulma noticed when she spoke of these Androids before.

“I ascended when I found my father’s lifeless body at the bottom of a crater the size of a small country.” Her fists were clenched tightly, “They will pay. That bitch will pay… My sword is good for her. I will rip her apart with my bare hands. ” she said, and spat on the ground as if ridding herself from a bad taste. 

They blinked at her in stunned silence. 

Her scowl was an exact replica of the Saiyan Prince standing at her side. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to go for Bra or Bulla in this story. FFN ultimately made up my mind for me.


	4. A Chance to Prepare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goku arrives on Earth and is filled in about the future of the planet.  
> Everyone disperses and Bulma invites Bra to stay at Capsule Corp for the next three years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Some slightly suggestive scenes ahead.

Vegeta's gaze searched the sky as he picked up on a familiar energy entering the atmosphere.

Kakarot. He thought, gritting his teeth. Although, in light of the events of the past few hours, Vegeta decided that he no longer felt the same level of ire towards his nemesis that he used to. Probably because the future would see the fool die of disease like a weakling while he went on to become the Legendary Super Saiyan, surpassing levels he not very long ago had felt was nearly unattainable. The thought almost brought a smile to his face. Almost.

Granted, that future may not come to pass anymore now that his future brat intervened. A Brat whose existence was another conundrum altogether, he thought with a frown. Vegeta couldn’t decide if the idea of siring half-breed brats with the woman disgusted him or intrigued him. Either way, the thought evoked a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. On the one hand, half-breeds were a disgrace - a stain on your good name. On the other, he was the last Saiyan alive. It wasn’t as if there would be anyone left to sneer at him for the insult, or anyone left to birth him legitimate pure-blooded heirs. Besides, the brat was strong. Immensely so. Vegeta guessed that had to count for something. Then there was the other side of the coin: the Woman. Vegeta didn’t even want to think about how that came about.

Well, he amended, he had a good idea what his motivation would have been. The woman was no Hag. And, despite not being very strong, was very hot-tempered - an attractive quality to Saiyan males. That, coupled with her superiority complex and above average intelligence, Vegeta could almost see it: how they ended up in the sack. She must be one hell of a lay, he mused. Maybe he would get to find out for himself in this timeline too, he thought, his eyes briefly flitted to the woman’s curvy form, lingering on her shapely behind. 

Vegeta tracked Kakarot’s ship all the way to the ground, watching as it landed not far away from where their party had gathered. They all picked up and flew to the landing site. Kakarot emerged shortly after they all landed, wearing the most ridiculous garb Vegeta had ever seen, even more so than his gods-damned pink shirt. 

“Wow” Kakarot said, catching sight of the gathering warriors, “Hi guys. How’d you know I was coming? And where’s Frieza? I could have sworn I felt him land here.”

“He was here. Now he’s dead.” Vegeta answered.

“Gosh, Vegeta. You’re here too! Did  _ you  _ kill him? He’s quite strong.”

“Tch” the fool was deliberately mocking him, Vegeta thought, aggravated.

“Actually, Goku, that would be me.” Bra answered, stepping forward.

‘Bulma?” he asked, confused before catching sight of the real Bulma. “...What’s going on guys? Why’s there a younger version of Bulma here?”

“She’s my daughter, actually.” Bulma answered. Offering no other explanation in order to deliberately fuck with the idiot. Vegeta approved.

“Your daughter?! Geez I haven’t been gone that long have I?” Goku exclaimed, looking between the two blue haired females. His eyes suddenly found the brown furry appendage wrapped around the brat’s waist. He seemed to do a double take, then pointed at it “Hey! That’s a tail! A Saiyan tail.”

“So it is, captain obvious.” Bulma deadpanned. Then decided to put the poor fool out of his misery. Pity, he thought.

“Goku, meet Bra. My half-saiyan daughter from the future. She traveled back in time to warn us of a dangerous threat that will threaten the earth’s population in three years time.”

“Really?” Kakarot asked, sounding almost excited.

“I also happen to be the one to blast that butthole, Frieza and his slimy bastard of a father King Cold into the next dimension in your absence.” she added, a smug smirk tugging at her lips. “You’re welcome.” 

“Wow.” Kakarot said, after a while. Seeming to absorb the information. “That must mean you’re pretty strong, huh?” 

“Stronger than you, I’ll bet.” she challenged. Vegeta felt his stomach clench in a strange combination of pride and envy at the statement. Just like that, Kakarot’s demeanor changed. It was eerie, watching the buffoon persona slip away, revealing a fierceness that was the spitting image of his sire, Bardock. 

The two flew off shortly afterward and Vegeta had to suppress the sour feeling in his stomach as he felt and then watched as first the girl and then Kakarot ascended to Super Saiyan with an ease that galled him. It should have been him. He thought resentfully. In the distance, they burst into a flurry of motion. Vegeta had trouble following their movements, but saw each time a swing of the girl’s sword was parried and blocked by Kakarot, using only a finger of all things. They separated briefly then the girl launched herself at her opponent with a move straight off of his own repertoire. Vegeta was so shocked at seeing the familiar move that it took a while to note that Kakarot was laid out.

_ By the gods _ , Vegeta thought.  _ She really is my daughter _ . Which caused him to smirk smugly because that particular move was so dirty that the poor imbecile would probably never have expected it to come from an opponent with such an angelic face. Vegeta found himself chuckling at the thought. He looked at Kakarot, lying with his face in the dirt, and his chuckling full out turned into a bellow.  _ Gods, that was classic! _

When his amusement dimmed and he managed to focus on the interaction again he noted the girl had something metallic in her hand. Vegeta couldn’t see exactly what she was doing until she took the gadget and pressed it up against Kakarot’s arm. It looked like what these pathetic creatures on this planet called a pistol. She must have shot him with it because Kakarot was suddenly up, standing two feet away from her with his hand clutching at his arm and a perturbed look on his face.

“Smart girl” he heard the woman speak beside him. He looked over to see her clutching something over her eyes. It seemed to be some sort of sight enhancing goggles, if he had to guess. She lowered it and looked at him with an amused expression. “Future me must have told her about Goku’s needle phobia. It would have been a nightmare to get him to cooperate and get the shot he needs to survive that virus.”

“So she baited him into a fight and got him while he was unconscious” He mused, finishing her train of thought. She nodded. “Hmm” Vegeta grunted. “So the universes’ strongest warrior is afraid of needles… pathetic.” he spat. He watched the woman shrug beside him.

“Everyone has weaknesses, Vegeta” she stated. “it’s what makes us mortal” Then she turned, and rejoined her friends.

* * *

Bulma guessed that her future self would have wanted her daughter to stay with them and prepare for the androids. So she offered Bra a room at Capsule Corp. Bra was hesitant at first, insisting that she go on ahead three years to join them when the battle started, but it didn’t take much effort to convince her to stay. Bulma tended to think it was Vegeta’s gruff “Don’t be stupid brat. Obviously you still have a long way to go before you’re ready to face the tin cans again” that convinced her.

“But I’m stronger than you, Papa.” she had said, a bit cautiously. Vegeta seemed to turn red at her words, whether in anger or embarrassment, Bulma couldn’t tell. Vegeta exploded.

“Don’t call me that! I’m not your father. Not here. And it doesn’t matter how strong you are. Your technique is deplorable: Sloppy and unpracticed. You need more training.”

Bulma noticed the sadness in Bra’s eyes as she watched Vegeta. Saw her flinch as the Saiyan denied his parentage.  _ Poor girl _ , she thought with pity. Before she could intervene on the girl’s behalf though, Bra straightened her shoulders and glared defiantly at the Saiyan prince.

“Ok.” she stated. “I will stay, Father. If you will train me.”

“I told you not to call me-

“I will call you whatever I want,  _ Old Man _ .” she said, chin in the air. Bulma snorted, not surprised at the spunk. With them as parents any future children of theirs couldn’t help but have that sort of backbone. Bulma suddenly sobered, the father-daughter argument becoming white noise as she analysed her previous train of thought. It was almost as if her having Vegeta’s children was a given. She didn’t know if the possibility scared or relieved her. When she first found out about Bra. She was, not quite disgusted at the fact that she would have children with him in some alternate timeline, but was definitely against the idea, dismissing it as an immediate impossibility. Now, however… she didn’t know. She could never see Vegeta settling into the role of a father, it was too absurd. And yet. She glanced over at the arguing pair again.

“You can’t tell me what to do!” Bra screeched and Bulma watched Vegeta wince. 

“I’ll not have anyone of my blood being trained by that idiotic waste of a saiyan!” Vegeta yelled back.

“You’re either my father or you’re not. You can’t have it both ways if you decide you don’t want that role. If I want Goku to train me ‘ _ Not-Father’ _ , then I sure as shit will have him train me!”

“You’re awfully young to have such a dirty mouth.”

“Yeah well, I learned from the best.”

The two stared at each other, breathing heavily for a moment, then both swung around at exactly the same time and huffed, their backs to one another and arms crossed. Bulma couldn’t help but find it adorable. She was thinking very dangerous thoughts, she realized.

Now they were standing before the Capsule Corp compound. It was just her, Bra and Vegeta. Yamcha was, understandably, bitter about the revelations of the day. He went back to his own apartment. He had barely looked at her since the revelation of Bra’s parentage. Bulma couldn’t spare him one ounce of guilt since she hadn’t really done anything with Vegeta.  _ Yet _ … a little voice whispered in the back of her mind. Bulma shook her head as if that would make the voice go away. She instead focused on her current dilemma: Bulma didn’t know how she was going to explain it to her mother without the woman losing her mind. Her father, Bulma had no trouble dealing with. He was a scientist, like her, he would get it. Panchy however... let’s just say that when Bulma’s mother got the urge to match make, she was downright scary, especially when it was grandchildren that were on the line. Bulma already had to toss out a fake packet of birth control the previous year. Thank goodness Yamcha was away on training most of the time because she didn’t notice that the color of the pills seemed wrong until halfway through her cycle and she caught site of a previous packet lying in her drawer, with a pill sporadically missed here and there. Bulma had the suspect packet tested and lo and behold: they had been switched to folic-acid supplements. Needless to say, Bulma had been watching her birth control like a hawk since that time. There’s no guessing what her mother would do once she finds out about Bra.

Suddenly Bulma had an idea. She would have to call Tights later on to explain, but Bulma didn’t think her estranged older sister would mind temporarily becoming a mother of a 14-year old.

When Bulma collapsed on her bed hours later, she nearly drifted off then and there. It had been one heck of a day, she reminisced, starting this morning with her erotic dream of Vegeta, and snowballing from there. She sighed, recalling her mother’s reaction to meeting Bra.

“My goodness Bulma! What have you cooked up in your lab this time? Who is this girl? Why, she looks just like you when you were young.”

“Mom, this is Bra. She’s Tight’s daughter.”

“Tights? Oh my goodness! A grandbaby! Oh why didn’t my wayward firstborn tell me she had a child? I’m going to have to have a real talking to that girl, but where are my manners dearest.” Mrs Brief addressed Bra for the first time, “Come on into the kitchen and I’ll bake you something sweet. Oh! This is so exciting!”

Bulma smiled remembering how well Bra and her mother got on. Amongst comments of “You’re so skinny Bra, you should eat more. Boys these days prefer a nice round rump” and “My, you sure have a healthy appetite” Bra’s cheeks had been perpetually rosy with embarrassment and mirth. She seemed happy, though and Bulma reminded herself that it was the first time meeting her grandparents, having found out a little more about her backstory on the way there. Momma and Poppa died the same day her son in the future did, Bra said. She couldn’t imagine it, and it won’t happen this time around, Bulma resolved.

Dr Briefs had later come to her to get the full story about Bra. He was concerned about the future and absolutely dumbfounded at the fact that she and Vegeta had shacked up and had a kid (she didn’t tell him about the baby that died), but mostly he was very excited that her theory about time being not so much linear but more like a tree, with different decisions creating different branches of existence was proven with her future self’s time travelling invention. That, and he couldn’t wait to get his paws all over her future self’s data.

She was rolling the Capsule between her fingers. The one that contained the information on the androids sent by her future self. Bulma really wanted to start delving into it, but her eyes were burning from exhaustion, her mind still on the events of the day.

Vegeta retreated to the gravity room almost the instant they landed at the compound, hell bent on getting stronger and reaching Super Saiyan. Honestly, she was a bit worried about him, knowing now what it truly takes to ascend; that it wasn’t only about strength. She guessed that Vegeta must be worried too. To be able to suffer an emotional trauma he would first have to make himself vulnerable enough to experience it. He would need to really care about another person and Bulma just did not see that happening with Vegeta. The man is a cold-hearted murdering bastard. He would never… but he did, she suddenly realised. The fact that he did it in the future meant that he isn’t a lost cause. He obviously cared deeply, probably even loved his children as impossible as it may sound now. He turned Super when the first died and trained and raised the second with her future counterpart. Her future self also probably cared for him deeply. She admitted, it was the logical conclusion. It would have taken a while though. That man would have been a real hard nut to crack for her future self, but Bulma bet that she’d enjoyed the hell out of it because Bulma Briefs was at her happiest when a challenge was put before her.

See could see it now, she thought, how they ended up together. She was already sexually aware of him because of that stupid dream. The fact that he was an asshole and that she couldn’t trust him not to kill them all has so far kept her mind from straying too far into that territory. Oh, and she had Yamcha. She reminded herself belatedly. Those mental boundaries were now slowly melting away. She bet with both their tempers that they would be explosive in the bedroom. She felt her body heat as images of her dream flashed in her brain. Then there was the danger factor - another of her secret boxes that he ticked. There was nothing more satisfying than the knowledge that she could bring a powerful, dangerous man to his knees. She felt the heat pool low in her belly as her imagination got out of hand.

_ Oh Kami, _ she thought,  _ this is so wrong,  _ but she couldn’t help herself as she slid her hand down her flat stomach and into her underwear and let herself relive her dream all over again.


	5. The Tail of Bra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bra and Vegeta have some father daughter bonding time, Saiyan-style.  
> Meanwhile, Bulma digs into the data her future self sent her, but finds her endeavors interrupted by a very apologetic someone.

Vegeta focussed on his breathing, willing his lungs to expand and contract slowly despite the immense external pressure that was trying to force them to remain flattened after very exhale. The numbers on the display of the center control panel read 80G: 10 over what his previous training level had been and 20 short of what Kakarot had trained at before landing on Namek. 10 more minutes of this to acclimatise himself to the new environment and then he would start his exercise routine. The previous day, Vegeta had arrogantly assumed that since he was at least as strong as Kakarot was when he first landed on Namek, thanks to his beat down by Recoom and consequent healing session in the tanks afterward, he should have been able to handle the levels that Kakarot trained at. He quickly realised his mistake. It took him five excruciating minutes to crawl to the control panel and shut down the gravity. After gaining his strength back, Vegeta discovered that it took at least six hours to acclimatise his body to the higher levels in increments of 10Gs. He had started at 50Gs and it took him the rest of the day to comfortably move and fight in 70Gs.

He still had some of the food left from his trip through space. It wasn’t appetising, but it was filling and nourishing. After eating his fill, he showered in the Gravity Chamber facilities, the heavily pelting water from the showerhead under 20Gs felt great on his aching body and he had crawled into his cot afterwards, stark naked, too exhausted to even lift his arms to dress. The chamber he left running at a constant 20G as he slept. 

Vegeta was up and ready for a new day of training four hours later. He had just started at 80Gs a few minutes ago and was now planning his regime for the day, with the goal of getting to 100G by dinnertime. His meditation, however, was suddenly interrupted by a knock. He opened his eyes to see a face peering at him through the window at the door. At first he thought that it was the Woman, but as he focused on the person he noted that the face was younger, still carrying the roundness of youth around her jaw. He grit his teeth, irritated at the interruption. The way the brat looked at him made him very uncomfortable. Sadness and adoration all jumbled up and visible for the world to see in that expressive face, as transparent as the Woman’s. The sadness he could handle, the adoration however... He had done nothing to deserve that from the girl. He wasn’t her sire. He didn’t raise her. His future counterpart did that, and he wasn’t  _ him _ . He did not think he would ever be. It was unfathomable that he could ever be someone that was so obviously cared about. It made him feel like a fraud, which in turn made him angry. Why couldn’t the girl just leave him be. He huffed and turned away from her, moving to face the opposite side of the chamber.

He heard her knock again shortly afterwards. He ignored her, but stubbornness was apparently a hereditary trait because the knocking didn’t end. He sighed, and got up and walked over to the entrance.

“What” he snapped when the door opened.

“You said you’ll train me.” she answered cooly.

“I’m busy.”

“Then I’ll go look for another sensei.”

Vegeta grit his teeth, remembering her threat of seeking the tutelage of his nemesis. “Brat, don’t you dare.” he warned.

“Oh I’ll dare alright. And my name is Bra, not ‘Brat’. No ‘T’ at the end.”

“I know your name,  _ Brat _ ,” he emphasised, but seeing as you insist on calling me by some nauseating familial endearment I figure it’s only fair I return the insult.” Vegeta watched her stew for a moment, fists clenched tightly at her side. It was kind of funny, he admitted. She was apparently as easy to bait as her mother.

“Fine!” she finally spat in defeat. Instead of her leaving in a huff, as Vegeta would have expected, the girl shouldered past him and parked herself in the middle of the chamber in a meditative position. After a moment, he watched her wrinkle her nose in disgust. “It stinks in here” she remarked. Vegeta let out a bark of laughter at her expression.

“That, Princess, is the scent of hard work. Better get used to it if you’re planning on staying.” He watched the girl’s eyes widen at his words then cloud over with sadness.

“That’s what Papa always used to call me” she said softly. Vegeta cursed inwardly. The last thing he wanted was to remind her of his dead future counterpart. The title had slipped out, more as a sarcastic taunt referencing her prissy remark about the smell and her dubious status as his heir. It was  _ not _ an endearment. Yet somehow it held sentimental value to the girl. He made a note to never call her that again. Ignoring her teary eyes, Vegeta walked over to the control panel to activate the gravity again. Before he hit ‘engage’ he asked.

“Have you done Gravity training before?” She nodded ‘yes’. “At what level?” he prompted.

“550 max in base form” she answered. Vegeta sucked in a breath, once again realising that despite her age, she was immensely strong. She looked at him then, realising that he seemed to be struggling with the revelation. “Mother upgraded the machine to go to 800Gs max. She couldn’t exceed that without damaging the integrity of the Chamber. Before your death you were training easily at that level in base form.” she said. It wasn’t much of a consolation, Vegeta thought, but it did take the edge off his bitterness. He nodded to Bra in acknowledgement and engaged the gravity to 80G, and took a seat to continue his own meditation.

By lunch time he had completed four hours of strength training and was in his second hour of katas. His muscles were straining, but he could finally move comfortably in 100G. He hadn’t spoken to the girl since starting his routine, but she somehow managed to mirror him in his training. She was familiar with his katas, he noted. It made sense, he guessed.

“Brat” he spoke finally, after completing the final move of his kata. “You’re wasting your time here.” He spoke frankly. “You can probably do these moves in your sleep.”

“I know,” she answered.

“Then what are you doing here?” his tone was exasperated. She sighed and looked at him again with that strange mix of adoration and sadness, before shrugging forlornly. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose to quell his frustration. He really had no idea what to do with the girl. Ignoring her obviously didn’t work, neither did insults since they seemed to go right over her head. He could probably find the words that would cause enough emotional damage to make her go away for a long time, but he knew something about the pursuit of a father’s approval. His own father had put his hope in Vegeta. The desolation of never being able to live up to that almost impossible standard was almost unbearable at the time. Then the hatred that festered in him once he realised the truth, that he was never meant to achieve the task set before him: become the Legendary, kill the bastard that enslaved him and save his people. He was never meant to rule. He was nothing but a pawn, a hostage to keep his people in line. He hated his father for being weak. For abandoning him to his fate. For putting the burden of his world’s survival on his young shoulders. He hated what he had become because of it. Oh yes, Vegeta could easily find the words to make Bra run from him in disgust. Yet somehow, he didn't want the girl to hate him. He didn’t deserve her adulation, but he didn’t want her to hate him either, so he did the only thing left to do.

“Let’s spar” he ordered.

* * *

“B, please bring up the schematics of the time machine.” Bulma called out. She was currently seated in the decapsulated time-machine, observing the various labels on the equipment in before her. On her workbench lay the holographic console her future counterpart had sent her. The console suddenly spoke, the voice emanating from it would be a replica of her own were it not for the monotonous and slightly cold lilt to it. Bulma found that she actually preferred it that way, admitting that it would probably creep her out if the voice were more animated.

“Retrieving schematic diagram of Capsule-686f7065.” the voice said and Bulma soon saw a floor to ceiling projection of the time-machine blueprints displayed before her.

“Bulma Briefs, you are a genius.” she said, recognizing her own signatures in the design. She then navigated through the schematics using her voice until she found what she was looking for: the correct data port to run diagnostics via her laptop. Bulma reached down to open the correct panel to plug in her laptop, but froze when she saw the white corner of a paper sticking out just passed her shoes. She picked up the paper. It was small, about the size of a picture. She flipped it over and found the smiling face of a young Bra staring at her. She was missing one her one of her front teeth. Bulma heart squeezed as she looked at the face beside little Bra’s. It was Vegeta’s. He wasn’t smiling, but he wasn’t frowning either. He looked like he hadn’t aged at all. If Bulma were to be honest she could admit that the man in the picture was even more attractive than the one currently occupying the Gravity Chamber on her lawn. His bulging arms were crossed over his well-defined chest. Not even the dark-red tank top could hide the definition on those pecs, Bulma noted. He was much bigger than his counterpart in the present. His hands were in purple fingerless gloves. His hair was a tad shorter, the characteristic flame shape seemingly chopped down to a more subdued shape. He almost seemed human, Bulma thought. Bra’s arms were wrapped around his neck from behind as she squished her face against his cheek. She was wearing a white T-shirt and fingerless gloves too - pink ones. Bulma noted that the T-shirt has brown stains on the arm and that the girl’s elbow was scraped. She seemed happy though, and Bulma couldn’t help the smile that bloomed on her face, neither the longing that ached in her heart.

“Earth to Bulma” she suddenly heard, and looked up to find a hand waving back and forth before her face. The hand belonged to Yamcha, who was still in his white long sleeved T and black track pants.”Man, he said, floating down to the ground, “You were really in your own world up there weren’t you?” he asked. “Having fun playing with your new toys?”

Bulma laughed nervously and climbed out of the time machine. “I was actually,” she said as she reached the floor. “You wouldn’t believe the wealth of information future me has sent me on that little console over there.” she said, indicated the device on the table that was still busy projecting the schematics of the time machine. “I’ve barely been able to scratch the surface of her work and I’ve been in here for hours. 

“What is that?” Yamcha asked, indicating her hand.

“What? Oh, this?” she said, suddenly realising that she had been waving around the picture she found in the time machine while she was talking. “Uhm.. it’s nothing.” she answered, sticking it in her lab coat.

“Why are you here, anyway. I seemed to remember you bailing right after the whole fiasco with Bra yesterday. You didn’t even say goodbye!” 

“I uh..” he stammered and started scratching his neck, “I actually came to apologize. It was a dick move, Babe. I’m sorry.”

“It was.” Bulma affirmed. “I mean, I know you’re probably upset about whole Vegeta and I get-together in the future thing, but nothing happened yet-

“Yet?” Yamcha interrupted, and Bulma realized her slip-up. She paused.

“Look, Yamcha.” she started slowly, “Before Bra showed up things probably would have panned out exactly like she said it would. You’d be dead and there’d be a couple of maniacal androids flying around, killing everything in sight. Now, we don’t know what our future holds. We’ve been given a chance to change what will be for the better. We might break up anyway or we might decide to work it out. One thing I do know however is that for now, we’re together. That’s all that matters, isn’t it?”

Yamcha, it seemed, wasn’t convinced. 

“Do you like him?” he suddenly asked.

“Like who? Vegeta?”

“Yes.” he hissed. through clenched jaws.

“Of course not!” Bulma denied vehemently.

“Don’t lie to me, Bulma! Then what was all that about Vegeta being a good kisser?”

“Oh my Kami, Yamcha. It was just a dream! It didn’t mean anything!”

“Bullshit. I’ve seen how you act around him!”

“What are you talking about? When have you seen me? The guy has barely been back a full day”

“Exactly! You were flirting with him.”

“When?”

“When he crash landed at your house!”

“Seriously, Yamcha you’re being ridiculous!” Bulma’s defense sounded thin, even to her own ears.

“You find him attractive. Don’t deny it Bulma, I’ve known you for too long. I know all your tells.”

“Alright fine!” Bulma huffed, crossing her arms in a defensive manner. “I might have found him a teeny-weeny bit hot. Kami, I’m not blind.” she ended, noting the exasperation in her own voice.

“I knew it!” Yamcha cried triumphantly. Bulma sighed.

“It still doesn’t mean anything.” she pouted. “Just because I think he’s hot doesn’t mean I’m ready to jump into bed with the man, That Saiyan is an absolute asshole! He’s mean, arrogant, self-entitled… he’s a jerk Yamcha.”

“Didn’t stop the other you.” Yamcha said quietly, suddenly seeming to have run out of steam.

“You know what Yamcha, screw you!” Bulma said, incensed. “I’m not going to stand here and be punished for something that I haven’t done. It’s unfair, and you know what, I don’t have to take it, so I think you need to leave.”

“Bulma, wait… What are you saying?” Yamcha started, a note of desperation coloring his tone.

“Get out, Yamcha. I’m saying get out.” Bulma reiterated, and released a weary sigh.

“Fine.” Yamcha answered with a sigh of his own. “You obviously need some space. I’ll call you” he said, walking away.

“Don’t bother.” Bulma muttered, mutinously. She watched as Yamcha paused in his tracks, but he didn’t look at her again, just kept walking. She sighed heavily when he disappeared completely from her sight. Bulma examined her own feelings as she watched her lover of 15 years walk out the door. She was sad, yes, but mostly she felt tired. She knew that he still held a place in her heart. He had become her dearest friend and they’d shared many firsts together. However, the intimacies that they’d shared as youngsters in love had seemed to have fizzled away over the years. Bulma kept trying to tell herself that it was a sign of a mature relationship. That they’d naturally cool off towards each other as their familiarity increased, and yet, she wanted it back: the passion and the spark. Even Mom seemed to be getting more action than her, as nauseating as it was to think about the frequency of her parents’ lovemaking, and they’ve been together for decades. Was she being selfish to wish for more? Was that what her future self saw in Vegeta? Did he fulfill that for her? She wondered whether it was worth it to continue her attempts at making it work with Yamcha, or if she was just wasting time that could be otherwise spent building the family that she so desperately craved. Realizing that she had no answers for this line of thinking, Bulma determined to quit procrastinating. She turned back to the Time Capsule and continued her work.

* * *

They were lying in the shade of the big tree in the garden. Vegeta felt the aches and pains settle in from a productive sparring session. Next to him, Bra was not even winded. She had kept her power level purposely on par with his own so she wasn’t completely unscathed. On her cheek, a small smear of blood was left uncleaned from when he had headbutted her on the nose. She had shrieked bloody murder when that hit landed, not because it hurt (though it must have), but because she was worried that the her nasal cartelige would thicken along the bridge and would lead to her having a ‘fat, ugly nose’. Vegeta couldn’t help but chuckle as he recalled it. His chuckle turned into a full grin when he recalled the punishment he received for messing up her nose. Already he could feel his eye swelling shut in what the humans affectionately referred to as a ‘shiner’. Her violent reaction to his slight proved that despite her feminine squawking, she was no less of a Saiyan. In fact, Vegeta thought with a frown, she was probably more saiyan than himself at this moment, despite her strange coloring. She still sported the symbol of their heritage, her tail. A tail, Vegeta noted in his peripheral that was currently leisurely waving about to and fro.

“Why do you still have your tail?” Vegeta suddenly asked, and watched her blue eyes pop open at being addressed.

“Momma wanted to cut it off,” Bra answered, after a beat, “but you wouldn’t let her.”

“...”

“My brother had his removed at birth.” she continued in the wake of his silence, “Papa wanted me to keep mine, in case I need the power boost from the Oozaru. We live in the bunkers underground Capsule Corp, the rubble of the old building concealing any signs of life, so me seeing the moon wasn’t a problem until I was strong enough to start helping you fight. You didn’t want to, at first. Mama also didn’t want me to, but I was stubborn and often snuck out after you when you went on rescue and resource runs.”

“Resources, I understand, but why would I give a damn about anyone to rescue them” Vegeta interjected, finding the notion completely out of character.

“You were different then-

“I was insane, is what I was. Why the hell did I not just take a ship and get the hell off the planet?”

Here Bra was silent, seeming to think. “I think you wanted vengeance. For Tr- for my brother. I don’t think you wanted to leave until you defeated the androids.”

“Hmm” he grunted, finding some truth to her words. As a Saiyan, his pride would not let rest the fact that the ones that murdered his blood would be left alive while he ran like a coward. It would be his duty to avenge his son, or die trying.

“Also, Momma destroyed all the Space travel tech to prevent the Android finding it in case shit went sideways. ”

Vegeta snorted. They lay in silence for another few moments before Bra continued:

“I was twelve, the first time I transformed. There was a confirmed android sighting. We got a distress call via the radio. Momma thought you went to help but it was too far away for you to be much help once you finally arrived so you took me in the opposite direction instead, out to an uninhabited island. It was a risk, but you figured the android were far enough away and would be entertaining themselves for a while yet. I felt awful, but you told me that people die all the time. The strong will always dominate over the weak. It was the natural order of things. To survive we must become strong. So you made me look at the moon and after I transformed, you taught me how to control it… It took a few full moons to fully master it, though.”

Vegeta was silent, at once relieved that despite him seemingly taking the woman to mate and birth his children, it didn’t turn future-him into a sentimental fool. He could understand valuing the lives of his family - even if the word did send a shudder of revulsion down his spine - but the rest of the weaklings inhabiting this gods-forsaken mudball, now that was too far of a stretch for his imagination. His future counterpart probably only went on these ‘rescue’ missions to enact his vengeance on the tin-can abominations, one limb at a time.

Bra continued her narrative: “One of the time, the androids showed up, but I was so big and so strong I was slapping them around like flies” here she laughed, a joyous tinkling laced with nostalgic reminiscence. “It didn’t do any damage to them, despite the power boost, but I was half-wild and drunk on the power so I had fun. And you kept them busy enough that they weren’t able to harm me seriously either… you however did take some serious hits.” She sobered, a frown creasing her youthful brow. “I learnt how to do a mouth ki-cannon that day. Caught Seventeen of guard… he was scorched up pretty badly actually, so they decided that they didn’t want to play anymore and flew away. You were in a bad way, so I flew you back to the compound. Mom nearly had a heart attack when she saw me. She didn’t know you were training me to use the Oozaru. She tore a strip off you once you were no longer bleeding out. Dunno what she said to you but you were in a sulky mood for days.” another light chuckle.

Vegeta continued to watch the clouds drifting peacefully past. It was a peace that wouldn’t last as is generally the case with such things. So Vegeta rose and returned to the Gravity Chamber, determined to succeed where his future-self had failed: he  _ will _ become strong. He  _ will  _ reach the Legendary and he  _ will  _ surpass it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would say that there’s trouble in paradise for Bulma and Yamcha, but it hardly seems like paradise to me. Will Bulma stick it out a while longer or move on to greener… more fertile pastures.
> 
> Also, for those of you who know a bit about computer systems The ‘686f7065’ in the Time Machine “Capsule-686f7065” spells out ‘hope’ if you pop in into a ASCII to Hexadecimal converter. A bit of useless knowledge but I thought it was fun.


	6. If You Can't Take The Heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As they settle into a new routine, things start heating up when Bulma finds herself more and more drawn to her surly house guest.  
> The question is: does he feel the same?

Bulma wrapped up her morning work session by completing her final checks on Vegeta’s training bot that she had been working on the past five weeks and then loaded it to the printer. The 3D printer estimated the completion time in four hours. Bulma checked her watch, noting the time at almost noon and rushed to the kitchens.

Upon arriving in the kitchen, Bulma noted that lunch was already out in a large spread on the dining table. Her mother was carrying the last of the dishes and set it down with a flourish. Panchy then proceeded to the kitchen door, opened it widely and switched the fan on via the remote lying on the kitchen counter. Bulma could practically see the scent wafting from the heavily laden dining table through the kitchen door and out towards the open Gravity Chamber. She watched with amusement as the inhabitants meditating on the lawn perked up and slowly got up from their seated positions: the perfect Saiyan lure. 

It was lunchtime, her favorite time of the day. Vegeta and Bra were now making their way over towards the kitchen and Bulma couldn't help the sigh that escaped her as she watched the shirtless Saiyan strut towards her with predatory intent, a light sheen of sweat covering his body. Of course, his desire was for the food laid out before her, but a girl can dream. Bra, of course, always ate with them, but the Prince had previously been holed up in his training quarters making use of the previously stocked resources to meet all his needs. Drooling beside her, was none other than her own mother, and the two Briefs’ ladies watched the spectacle with flushed faces. It had become their daily ritual, hers and her mothers ever since the Gravity Chamber ran out of food and they found their family lunch-time pleasantly interrupted by the surly, hungry and oh so deliciously sweaty half-naked Saiyan Prince demanding sustenance. Since then, Pachy always endeavoured to have the best meals prepared and served by the time the Prince and half-saiyan teen took their lunch break, and Bulma always endeavored to be present to watch him come and claim it.

During the past five weeks, it had become more and more difficult, impossible even to deny her attraction to the Saiyan Prince. If it were purely physical, it would have been easier to ignore it, but Bulma found herself being drawn to Vegeta not only because he was hot as fuck and not at all shy about flaunting it, but also because of the glimpses she caught of him interacting with his future-self’s daughter. She mostly saw them when they were outside of the Gravity Chamber, taking a break, but in those moments as she watched his lips quirk up in a half smile at something Bra saying, or outright laugh even. It caused a fluttering in her chest and a tightening in her loins. Even when he was serious, his brows furrowing as he explained something to an equally serious Bra listening with rapt attention, Bulma sometimes felt an acute sense of envy at the attention Bra received from him. She objectively knew that poor Bra was only trying to re-establish the bond that was lost with the death of her own father, but it didn’t stop the jealousy pangs from appearing when she watched them. The situation was becoming dangerous, Bulma realised, especially since she didn’t know if Vegeta reciprocated even half of what she was starting to feel for him… and Yamcha. She still hadn’t resolved things with him ever since he left her lab all those weeks ago. He didn’t call. She told him not to, but found herself truly surprised when after almost two months he hasn’t even attempted to contact her. It usually didn’t even take him a full week to show up with roses and chocolates after one of their spats, even if he wasn’t the one at fault for the rift. Bulma found herself wondering if he too felt the inevitability of their end approaching.

She needed to end it, officially, because even if she could finally admit to herself that the romance between them had long since died, she was loath to lose him as a friend. All thoughts of Yamcha were soon banished as Vegeta entered the kitchen. Having already served herself, leaving her Saiyan guests free to go to town on the rest of the meal, Bulma was content to entertain herself cataloguing the various scars on Vegeta’s body. She was intensely curious as to their origin, but since they hadn’t said more than five civil words to one another since Bra arrived, it wasn’t really an appropriate topic to bring up. She watched him until he stalked past her, Bra on his trail, and headed upstairs for a shower as was his usual routine ever since he started joining them for lunch. He was gone for less than 10 minutes before he emerged again, a clean training suit clinging to his still damp skin. Sometimes Bulma suspected that he knew about her secret attraction, and therefore went out of his way to bait her. Especially at times like this, when he stopped beside her, so close she could feel the heat radiating from his body and could smell his sandalwood and spice body-wash combined with an earthy musk that was uniquely him. It was a deeply masculine and provocative scent and Bulma had to restrain herself from leaning in to take a deeper breath. His hip almost touched her shoulder as he bent over to retrieve a plate and started piling it high with the foods closest to her end of the table. Bulma felt her body heat with every passing second he was in her personal space. She dared an upward glance, noting his stoic almost nonchalant expression. It annoyed her that her hormones could be so susceptible while he seemed to remain largely unaffected. She didn’t know why, but she felt as if they were somehow competing in a battle of wills, and her asking him to quit crowding her would put her at a disadvantage and then he would have one up on her. So she kept her mouth shut and ignored his close proximity as she ignored her flaming face.

He finally moved away and Bulma released a relieved sigh. Bra arrived at the table soon after Vegeta took his seat. The remainder of lunch went past in silence as the Saiyans’ focus was shifted completely to consuming massive amounts of the food that was laid out on the table. Bulma found herself, not for the first time, thanking her lucky stars that they were rich or else these aliens might have eaten them out of house and home already. Her thoughts went briefly toward the Son household and Bulma felt a twinge of pity for the Ox Princess who was doing it all alone. Kami knows Goku probably wasn’t any help outside of providing all the gigantic game.

“It must be super weird having your future daughter suddenly living with you.” Yamcha stated, taking a sip of lemonade. They were sitting at the kitchen island and Yamcha was watching the two Saiyans spar on the grass.

It was more of a tutoring session, Bulma noted, as their most intense sparring was usually done in the Gravity Chamber. 

Two weeks ago, Bulma finally decided to swallow her pride and went to visit Yamcha. She wasn’t usually one to apologise, so it was quite an awkward discussion at first. After a while though, it got better and as the afternoon wore on Bulma found herself laughing and reminiscing about old times. He really was a sweet guy, she thought. Which made what she had said to him a lot harder. She broke up with him. It wasn’t done without her own fair share of tears and heartbreak, but she really didn’t feel that it was fair to string Yamcha along when her affections were focussed on someone else. Bulma knew that he probably still loved her, but he didn’t fight it when she ended it, for which she was immensely grateful. They decided to stay friends however, and now she saw him at least twice a week when he stopped by for lunch or a short visit.

“Man, she looks just like you, it's scary. Except for the tail,” continued Yamcha. “I must admit, I could never imagine you as a mother.”

“And why is that?” Bulma asked.

“I dunno. You were always so… wild. Restless, I guess. I didn’t get the vibe that you’d want to settle down anytime soon.”

_Oh, Yamcha_ , she thought. _If only you knew._

“Does it make you feel like a mom, though? Having her around?” Yamcha asked.

Bulma sighed, “Honestly, I feel like Vegeta’s getting more parental experience than I am since she spends the majority of her time with him. I think she feels a bit awkward around me. I don’t know why, though.”

“I can understand her wanting to hang around Vegeta. He died in her time, didn’t he?”

“Yes. It hasn’t even been a year for her.”

“Poor kid. I may not think much about the guy, but I guess he didn’t turn out to be a horrible father.” Yamcha’s eyes were on the two figures on the grass as he said this. His brows furrowed a bit and Bulma noted a hint of pain in his expression as he observed them.

“I think she was a bit of a daddy’s girl anyway” Bulma stated, fishing out the photo that she kept in her lab coat pocket. She meant to give it to Bra, but somehow was reluctant to part with it. She had since laminated it to preserve it when she noticed the edges start to crinkle.

“Why would you think that?” Yamcha asked, leaning over to see what she was holding. She saw his eyes widen as he caught sight of the polaroid.

“It’s just… a feeling I have.”

The kitchen door opened, and Vegeta walked in, as usual, half naked and dripping sweat. Bulma should have been disgusted, but found herself immediately fixated when she caught sight of the droplets trickling down those washboard abs, following the perfectly defined contours of his Adonis belt to pool into the rim of his low-cut spandex shorts. _Damn_ , she cursed internally, finding her mouth suddenly drier than the Sahara desert, and involuntarily wet her lips with her tongue.

Vegeta went straight to the refrigerator, pulled out two large water bottles and then proceeded to uncap one and raised it to his mouth. The motion caused his back to flex, accentuating its flare that tapered down to a narrow waist, and the bulging bicep on his raised arm. 

Now that’s just mean, Bulma thought resentfully and struggled to detach her gaze from the obviously posturing male in her kitchen. She really wished he would quit playing around and just admit that he was into her. Who wouldn’t be. She was gorgeous and she damn well knew it. He wasn’t as slick as he thought he was. She recalled the couple of times that she caught him ogling her admittedly purposefully on display chest during one or two of their many arguments. Arguments that had her adrenaline spiked blood pumping thickly through her veins and had her throbbing between her legs. On second thought, maybe she didn’t want to quit their little games just quite yet. She was already plotting ways to retaliate which involved sunbathing in some choice location… topless. She shifted in her seat, feeling the breeze hit the back of her neck from the open glass sliding doors in the living room, providing some relief from her overheating body.

Having been incapable of completely tearing her gaze from him, Bulma caught the exact moment a few drops escaped the water bottle and ran down his chin. Her mind immediately took her to all sorts of forbidden places, or rather took his mouth to all of her forbidden places and she had to clench her thighs together to alleviate the sudden ache. When he finished the bottle, he locked eyes with her, sucked a droplet from that decadent bottom lip and slowly, deliberately wiped the excess with the back of his hand, a teasing glint in those dark eyes.

Then, just as quickly as it began, the moment ended. Vegeta tossed the empty bottle in the trash can across the room then left the kitchen as suddenly as he entered, the other water bottle clutched in his hand and Bulma released the breath she had been unconsciously holding. Oh to be a bottle of water on a day like this, she thought with a forlorn sigh, absently fanning herself before resting her cheek on her fist. It was only then that she noticed that Yamcha had left.

* * *

As Vegeta was making his way back to the Gravity room, he could not stop the involuntary chuckle that escaped him at the thought of the women's reactions to his teasing. She was really too easy. Oh how he enjoyed making her squirm, the rosy flush of her heated skin such a delicious sight to behold. He especially enjoyed how quickly her former lover’s face soured, as he too noticed the blue-haired woman’s shift in attention. Her interest is obvious to anyone with eyes, but more so for someone with his heightened senses. He’d noticed that the other male’s scent remained glaringly absent from her person these last few lunar rotations, and the longer she remained unbedded the more potent the scent of her arousal. Vulgar Woman, he thought with amusement. She doesn’t even realise how blatantly she’d been advertising her interest in his presence. Not that he remained uninterested, mind you. On the contrary, he found the woman extremely interesting as of late. He had just not decided whether giving in to his baser needs would be worth it in the end. If it were a simple matter of slaking lusts, he figured that he would have no problem taking the woman up on her non-verbal invitations. Vegeta smirked as he recalled the one instance in the gravity room. Something had broken causing smoke to start rising from the centre control panel and he had demanded the woman fix it. When he entered the next day to check on her progress, she was her fixing something underneath the control panel. He had frozen on the spot when he caught sight of her. The blood he usually required for brain-function rushed straight to his other head and he was infinitely glad that the brat had chosen not to gatecrash his training session that day. Bulma was on all fours wearing a pair of shorts that looked like she took a pair of scissors to them, making the already indecent piece of clothing even shorter. Half of her luscious ass was hanging out and on full display to his unprepared eyes, and he could just make out the white cotton peeking out the sides of the denim crotch between those shamelessly spread thighs. He’d wanted to tear that scrap us useless fabric apart and give her what she’d been begging him for, taunting him with, these last few weeks. Instead he barked, “Hurry up wench, I haven’t got all day.” He grinned as he recalled the unspoken ‘Fuck me’ in her eyes turning into a very verbal “Fuck you!” “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he had taunted in reply and it wasn’t long until she was storming out of the room cussing a streak as blue as her hair. He liked their verbal spats, enjoyed watching her eyes spark with fire as he insulted everything under the moon about her. She gave as good as she got and had him so riled up sometimes, that he wished that he wished he could just blast her into ash and be done with it. And when she drew close enough to him to poke him in the chest, and he felt her nipples tighten against his pecs, underneath whatever low-cut shirt she saw fit to torture him with that day, there was no denying she that wanted him. She knew it and so did he. 

The woman was… fun. He did not despise her like he did the rest of the people on this gods-forsake planet and therein lay the crux of his conundrum. With Bulma, it would not be a simple affair. He couldn’t view her as one of the many whores he’d bedded and discarded afterwards. Like their verbal interplay, he expected that if they were ever to start a physical relationship, it would be more games of one upmanship. The temptation to somehow best the other would be too strong to ignore. Such games were addicting to Saiyans, who thrived on a challenge… and he had a pretty good idea how things would end up after that. In fact, he was almost certain about the consequences of such an affair, he thought as his counterpart’s daughter came into view.

He didn’t want brats. It didn’t matter that this one was busy worming her way into places she had no business being, she was still a pain in his ass. The way she stared at him with those big blue eyes, so eerily similar to the woman’s... He did not want to be in any way responsible for something so pure. He didn’t deserve it. His hands were saturated with the blood of billions of girls who had eyes just like her. He did not want to be the reason for the shadows lurking in the depths of those eyes, for turning something so sweet and innocent into the haunted wraith that sometimes stared at him through those sad cerulean orbs. 

Would the woman be accepting of his resolution? He did not think so, for as transparent as she was when looking at him, Bulma's intentions couldn’t be clearer when he caught her watching the girl. The longing in her gaze was unmistakable. Bulma wanted children and he wasn’t sure if he could oblige her this time around.

“Let’s continue, shall we?” he told the girl. Tossing the unopened bottle of water to her. She beamed at him in gratitude and something in his chest stuttered and flipped at the sight.

He was in deep shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins...


	7. A Brief Discussion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In an interesting philosophical discussion, Bulma finally gets the chance to learn a bit more about her future daughter.

She took deep steadying breaths, as she watched the microchip slowly move towards its designated slot through the magnifying glass.

Closer.

Just a little more…

“Need some help?”

She screamed, jumped, and the little chip went flying from the pincers of her tweezers. It was small enough that she didn’t even hear it land. Her bewildered eyes rose to meet the near identical wide blue gaze of her future daughter’s.

She wouldn’t get upset. She decided, taking a deep calming breath, even though frustration was burning in her gut at the interruption. It wasn’t like the young hybrid to seek her out. This was an opportunity, the chance she’d been waiting for to pick the brain of her future progeny. So, taking another cleansing breath, Bulma pushed the forfeited chip from her mind and turned her attention to Bra.

“Uhm… sorry about that.” The girl said, smiling sheepishly.

“It’s okay Sweetie. I’ll just program another one.”

“What are you working on?”

“Battlebots. I found the schematic on that disk you brought me.”

“Sweet,” Bra cheered, “that would really accelerate our training progress.”

“The functionality of these bots are quite extensive.” Bulma mused.

“I would think so. Mama has been building and improving on the original model for years at the request of Papa, as he trained and improved himself.”

“Speaking of training. Why aren’t you?” Bulma noted curiously. 

Bra suddenly looked away, a slight blush forming on her cheeks as she chewed on her bottom lip. A lip that remarkably resembled a certain Saiyan prince’s - plump and full while the top lip was slightly narrower. Something she probably only noticed because of how often she fantasized about those lips. Bulma sat back and studied the girl, trying to find and catalogue other traces of the Saiyan prince in her makeup. For, while it's true the girl looked a hell of a lot like herself when she was that age, there were certain features that she now could definitely classify as coming from Vegeta. Like the shape of her jaw… and those ears peeking out from behind her blue tresses. Those were definitely not from her.

“He kicked me out.” Bra answered finally, clearing her throat awkwardly and Bulma snorted. “He said he needed to focus on his own training.” she continued.

“Typical,” Bulma said. “He’s such a grouch.” she complained.

“But a cute grouch, right?” Bra teased. Now it was Bulma's turn to blush as she tried, but failed to stop the heat from rising to her cheeks.

“Yeah, well his looks is the only thing he has going for him” Bulma dismissed, attempting nonchalance.

Bra giggled, the sound tinkling and happy like wind chimes in the summer. “You know, I could argue with you, but that’s just something you’ll have to figure out for yourself.”

Bulma remained quiet. It was rather strange speaking to her daughter like this, especially about Vegeta knowing what became of them in her timeline.

“Was he… very different? The Vegeta in your time?” She asked tentatively, and watched the brief flash of pain in Bra’s blue eyes before it vanished as she drew a deep breath and a sad nostalgic smile settled on her face.

“Dad was… well he was dad. He wasn’t very expressive when it comes to putting his emotions into words, not like some of the other dads I saw - those living in the bunkers at Capsule Corp. But you could tell by his actions. Words, he once told me, were just another type of weapon that people can use to manipulate you with. To rile you up, to intimidate you, to deceive and trick you into making a mistake. If you want to know someone’s character you should judge them by their deeds.”

“Wow… that’s actually quite profound.” Bulma said, a bit awed.

“Yeah, well it was an important lesson for me then, since I almost blew my cover reacting to the Androids taunts on that particular day. My point is,” she continued, “That comparatively, the Vegeta in this time can be said to be quite an asshole.” 

Bulma snorted.

“But I’ve learned to look past the taunting barbs, the megalomaniac bluster and empty threats. I expect that Dad has long since learned to use the weapon of words effectively to hide the person that I know my father will become by the time I am born… If I will still be born in this timeline. It's his defense mechanism, but I think it’ll fade with time as he learns to trust those around him not to bite down when he shows you his throat.”

“Woah. Uhm… that’s quite the analogy.” Bulma stuttered and saw her shrug indifferently. “So you’re getting along then?” Bulma asked.

“I think so. I think he might actually like me when I’m not being a pain in his ass - his words by the way. Papa - my Papa - told me that I am very Saiyan in my mannerisms. More so than Gohan used to be.”

“I can believe that,” Bulma said with a smile, “but I wonder whether that is because of the adversity of your timeline that shaped your character or if you just come by it honestly.” she said, tapping her lip in contemplation.

“The age old nature versus nurture?” Bra asked skeptically, before a sly very familiar grin split her face. “There’s just one way to find out, isn’t there? You’ll have to make me in this timeline. After you have my brother, that is.”

“Hah!” Bulma laughed, “Cheeky brat”

“What do you mean?” Bra asked with feigned innocence, “This would be purely for science, Mother.”

“Science… right.” Bulma drawled with an eye roll.

“Think about it. You’ll be able to test the theories of fate and destiny. Will the exact same child be born if you leave the conception date up to chance? Is his soul destined to exist? Is mine? Does my interference with the timeline make any difference to that particular outcome?”

“Vegeta and I don’t have that kind of a relationship!” Bulma gasped, a bit scandalized at the turn of the conversation.

“Yet.” Bra countered.

“Kami save me!” Bulma said, exasperated. “I don’t really think this is an appropriate conversation to be having with you. Shouldn’t you be worried about more age appropriate things than your own conception?"

“Mom, I’m fourteen, not four. Besides, you already gave me ‘the talk’ when I had my first period a year ago. Not that it would matter, seeing as there aren’t a lot of people my age left in my time, and they’d have to get past Pap-” she froze, eyes widening in before they became glassy with tears, her face crumpling in anguish.

In a panic, Bulma did the only thing she could think of as she grabbed the young girl and pulled her towards her chest just as the first body racking sob tore from her throat.

Bulma stood helpless as the young girl wept in her arms. Her stomach in knots as she once again considered the severity of the threat they were all facing. When she tried to imagine that far away dystopia, a future where only a handful of the human population survives, being terrorized and steadily culled while time ticks by… her brain drew a blank. It was so ridiculous that she couldn’t even imagine it. Imagine a time where they didn’t succeed in protecting the planet? Not possible. Goku had always been the hope of their planet. With him on their side, failure was never an option. She guessed that it was the reason her future counterpart sent Bra back with the vaccination. Goku was always the lynch-pin in the equation. For some unfathomable reason, he is the difference between success and failure. If Goku survived, she was almost sure that the world would survive as well. 

Still, to have in her arms the symbol of that failure. To see what was at stake in the form of her grieving daughter. It was heartbreaking to think about and Bulma felt her own eyes get blurry. She also felt the roiling knots in her stomach harden in resolve. She would do everything in her power to assure that that future would not come to pass. And right now, that power included equipping the defending warriors of this planet with all they needed to be ready when the time comes.

“Oh gods, I’m so sorry.” Bra hiccuped and pulled away, wiping at her face. “I usually have it under control.” she sniffed and took a deep steadying breath. “It’s just… I sometimes forget. It sometimes feels as if he’s… not gone anymore because he’s here - in this time. And then I remember that I’m going back to a time where there’s no more Papa and it doesn’t matter what I do, there will never be a Papa for me again.” Her breath hitched and Bulma rubbed a comforting hand over her trembling shoulder.

Still at a loss of what to do or say, Bulma just silently kept stroking her shoulder while she composed herself.

“It’s good. I’m good.” Bra reiterated. “Warriors are not supposed to cry.” she stated firmly and rubbed another hand over her now splotchy face.

“Another one of future-Vegeta’s pearls of wisdom?” Bulma inquired.

“Yes” Bra answered with a teary smile.

“Hah! Hypocrite. I take it he never told you about his death on Namek.” Bulma snorted.

“Yes he did. Frieza killed him. Then Kakarot - I mean Goku - defeated Frieza and father was wished back to life. He was still bitter about it in our time. The fact that he didn't get a chance to repay the blood-debt when Frieza came back to Earth in that mechanical monstrosity of a body. I took great pleasure in dismembering that evil lizard so at least now he can rest in peace knowing that debt has been property paid by his blood.”

”You do realize that your father is probably in hell.”

“Meh, heaven is for pussies.”

“Bra! Languish!”

“What? It’s true. I mean, there would probably be no fighting in heaven. Papa would be absolutely miserable without anyone to fight.”

“You’re right there, but I digress. We were discussing your father’s hypocrisy in lecturing you that warriors don't cry. I’m assuming he didn’t tell you how he balled when he begged Goku to avenge the Saiyan race, just before Frieza killed him.”

Bra just looked at her in stunned silence. “He did?” she whispered, bug-eyed.

“Yep,” Bulma continued, “like a baby.”

“No way!”

“Way. Gohan told me. He also told me how they ended up allying with him against the Ginyu Force and Frieza. It’s actually what made me take a chance and invite him to the compound. I figured he can’t be all that irredeemably evil if he can grieve for his race in that way. Plus the whole child soldier scenario really tugged at my heartstrings, and the fact that he ended up not killing us after he was wished back to Earth with us. I mean, he had the clear power advantage because Goku was galaxies away at the time… and I thought he looked kinda cute standing all broody-like against that tree.” Bulma realized that she’d been talking quite fast for the last few sentences and that her face felt inflamed. Bra was smiling, but her grin had an edge of mischief to it, and Bulma felt the sudden need to explain herself. “So, I have a thing for bad boys. Sue me.” 

“I didn’t say anything.” Bra replied innocently.

“Whatever! The point is, crying is not a weakness. Emotions and emotional vulnerability aren’t weaknesses. If anything, they can be the source of great strength.”

“Like when I turned Super Saiyan for the first time?”

“Exactly”

“Present father will have a hard time accepting that.”

“Vegeta has years of conditioning to overcome. Your existence is proof that he will get there… eventually.”

“I don’t know.” she said, chewing her lip, a habit that she seemed to have inherited from Bulma herself. “He was caught off-guard in my timeline. What if he decides that he doesn’t want that this time around. I mean, like you said, family and emotional vulnerability are synonymous. Something he’s conditioned to avoid like the plague. I can’t see Papa - as he is now - willingly subjecting himself to that.”

“Hah! He can’t out-stubborn me. He’s going down. Even if I have to use every dirty trick in the book to make it so.”

Bra regarded her silently for a long moment, before: “He doesn’t stand a chance, does he?”

“I have the advantage here, my dearest Bra. He knows my name is Bulma Briefs, but he has no idea what that actually means yet. He’ll find out soon enough, though.”

“I don’t know If I should be grossed out, or happy that my mother is confiding in me about her plans to seduce my father, since my possible conception will be the result of said plans.”

“Don’t get all squeamish on me now, girl. You’re surprisingly mature for someone your age and thus easy to talk to.” Bulma noted.

“I had to grow up fast.” she answered with a nonchalant shrug. “Our family is seen as the leaders of what remains of the human race. We control the resources so the people turned to us for governing as well. It’s a lot of responsibility. I hated it most of the time. I didn’t take it seriously either. You and Father did most of the heavy lifting. When father died, however. I had to step into the role of protector and enforcer, being the strongest in the group. It was a steep learning curve in the beginning. People don’t respect you as an authority when you're half their size and their age, and a girl to boot. I’m not as fond of being the ‘bad guy’ as dad used to be. Not as good as it either. Let’s just say that it took a while for them to accept that I’m the new big bad that you had to cross when you stepped out of line. It’s not all brute force either, I had to get very good at emotional manipulation. Luckily, I had the two best teachers in the world.”

“As sad as that sounds, I don’t think you’re worse off because of it. You might even have more wisdom than me. Let’s just say I’ve been rampaging through life with the recklessness that comes from knowing that there’ll always be dragonballs available if stuff goes sideways. It’s scary to consider a future where that is no longer the case.”

Bra was just opening her mouth to reply when a thundering sound suddenly rocked through the compound, making the ground tremble and sending the loose items on the desks flying every which way. At an instant, Bra was at her side, steadying her. Bulma was about to thank her when she noted the expression on the young girl’s face. A sort of far away look that suddenly morphed into panicked grimace.

“Father!” Bra suddenly yelled and she was gone so fast Bulma didn’t see her leave.

It took a few milliseconds for Bulma’s brain to catch on what had likely just happened before she too was running out the door towards where the Gravity Room stood.

When Bulma arrived at the scene, Bra was already digging through the smoking rubble. Bulma’s heart was galloping in her chest as she considered the remains of what had once been the Gravity Trainer and the state that Vegeta must be in beneath it. The cold feeling in the pit of her stomach that bloomed at the thought of him possibly not even being alive jolted her into awareness and she rushed to assist the young girl in excavating the Saiyan Prince. 

A hand suddenly burst out in front of them, causing Bulma to yell and fall back on her rump. Something pointy dug painfully into her rump, but she found that she really didn’t care. He was alive. Thank Kami, she thought, hand to her chest as she watched him drag himself from the rubble with the help of Bra. The relief was short lived, and was suddenly replaced by anger.

“What the hell, Vetega?!” she shouted, getting to her feet. “You could have killed yourself! You could have destroyed part of my building if the ship was parked any closer.” for the wall adjacent to where the GT stood was indeed blackened by the explosion. 

“Don’t blame me for your faulty machinery. This is all due to your incompetence.” Vegeta replied in a raspy voice, as Bra hoisted him out of the rubble. He winced and let out a barely audible grunt as he emerged.

“Uh, mom…” Bra’s voice wavered in uncertainty. Bulma’s eyes were suddenly drawn to his midsection and widened in horror.. 

“Oh my Kami!” she gasped as she caught sight of the piece of rebar protruding from his abdomen just above his right hip. Vegeta followed her gaze and his eyes widened too.

“Shit” He hissed and moved to grip the pole.

“No!” Bulma yelled and rushed to his side, putting her hand over his to stop him. “Don’t pull it out, this thing is likely the only thing keeping the blood in your body you insufferable jerk.”

“For fuck’s sakes Woman, I won’t bleed out from this tiny little stick. I’m Saiyan.” He grunted, and gripped the pole tighter.

“You’re flesh and blood is what you are. Poke a hole in you and you’ll leak like everyone else.” 

“Eh. I’ve had worse.” he quipped.

“Oh Har-har. Seriously. Now is not the time to reveal the fact that you have a sense of humor, Vegeta. Otherwise I might just think you’re actually dying” She said and moved to steady him when he swayed. 

To Bra she said, “Come on, we need to get him to the hospital. This has to be surgically removed.”

She looked at Vegeta worriedly. His eyelids were starting to droop and she was steadily taking more of his weight. She examined him more closely and noted that beside the pole impaling him, he also had a few contusions, small cuts all over his torso and legs, a purple bruise on his upper left abdomen that could indicate internal bleeding and a large gash across his back that was steadily dripping blood “I think it’ll be better if you flew him. I’ll follow in my jet. Do you know the way?”

“Yes.” Bra answered sternly, then cracked a small grin. “The General Hospital 5 miles to the north, yes? We used to go there often to scavenge supplies. Of course, it was mostly a pile of rubble, like all the other buildings in the vicinity, but we could still access the sublevels.”

Bra looked at the rebar again. The piece that impaled him was nearly three feet long. Before Bulma could protest, the girl’s hand suddenly shone with power and she sliced the piece of metal cleanly just an inch from where it poked from his abdomen. She did the same with the piece through his back then gently lifted the now unconscious prince into her arms.

“See you at the hospital” she said, then flew off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm happy to see this story is so well liked.   
> Thanks for all the comments and kudos. They keep me motivated.
> 
> Hopefully I can keep a good updating pace.


	8. Dreams and Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gets quite angsty in some parts. There’s also a bit of smut included - teensy weensy bit: just enough to wet the… appetite. I want to say that it’s all part of the plot (because it is), but it’s mostly self-indulgence.

It was dark all around him, he tried to open his eyes but all he saw was black. Everything hurt. He tried to take a breath but a heavy weight was preventing his chest cavity from rising, and the little he could get it to move sent shocks of pain reverberating through his whole body. His lungs were on fire. The smell of smoke permeated the air, thick and suffocating, and still not a spark of light penetrated the black haze around him despite the fact that he was now blinking.

Someone was calling his name, the sound high pitched and melodious. Like wind chimes, familiar, but he couldn’t seem to place it. He felt more weight settle atop his bruised body and groaned. Or at least, he thought he did. Suddenly, some of the weight started disappearing atop him, and the first shaft of white light penetrated the blackness. The voice became clearer. His brain finally registered its owner. Bra - the daughter that was his, but not. He reached for the light and felt his hand burst through towards cool daylight.

He finally remembered where he was.

The Gravity Chamber.

It exploded. Burying him alive. Right as he felt himself breaking through a threshold that he could have sworn held the Legendary just beyond. He sighed wearily, too tired to curse his bad luck. 

The girl was helping him out. The woman was on her ass in the rubble staring at him dumbfounded. Then, like the fucking insane bitch she was started screaming at him. Naturally he didn’t take her insults lying down. Such was just not their way even if he’d give anything to be doing just that: Lying down.

His vision blurred and he suddenly found himself attempting to yank a pole out of his side, which prompted more inane yapping from the woman. 

His vision went dark again and suddenly he found himself standing alone, looking at the woman who was now on the other side of the lawn. She held something in her arms, something small in a piece of cloth that was squirming. Two figures landed before her, causing her to back up in fear, clutching the bundle tighter to her chest. Her terrified eyes met his for a moment, pleading, before she focused on the threat before her once more. Vegeta lifted into the air, preparing to fly towards her but something suddenly caught around his throat and he instinctively grabbed at it, only for it to coil tighter around his neck, cutting off his air supply. His finger dug in, feeling the obstruction give a little, like flesh. He registered the cloying musk of it an instant before the gratingly pitched voice spoke next to his ear.

“Just where do you think you’re going, filthy little Monkey?” Frieza whispered tauntingly and his stomach dropped at the familiarity of the scene. He struggled to free himself, watching Bulma get backed into a corner by the humanoid shapes.

“Bulma!” he shouted, his attempts becoming more and more desperate while his former master laughed at his struggle. 

“Now now, Vegeta. What did I tell you about attachments?”

“Son of a -let go!”

“They make you weak!” Frieza continued, unperturbed as Vegeta clawed at the vise that was Frieza’s tail.

Suddenly, Bulma screams became hysterical and he looked over to see one of the figures holding a naked infant, dangling by one leg. The child’s little tail was thrashing violently as it cried. Vegeta couldn’t see his face but his hair was in the characteristic flame shape of his own. Vegeta choked on his breath as the realization of just what was about to happen hit him. The child was his. His son. And those monsters were about to murder him.

“No! No don’t!” he heard himself beg, his heart in his throat.

“Vegeta help!” Bulma screamed, as she herself was being restrained by the other one. He hurled himself forward, Frieza’s tail disappearing from his neck, just as the figure holding the babe threw the boy up into the air, and followed the motion with a ball of energy.

The blast threw him backwards and hurled him towards the earth, to where Bulma was on her knees, a little yellow blanket clutched in her hands and tears streaming down her cheeks. The androids were nowhere to be seen. Neither was Frieza.

“Why?” The blue-haired woman whispered hoarsely. “Why didn’t you save him? You were supposed to save him!” she was shouting at him now. Her face a crumpled mess of desolation.

“I -” he started answering, but didn’t finish. Bra was suddenly at her mother’s side, arms wrapped around her consolingly. She was looking at him with those haunted blue eyes.

“Why couldn’t you save us Papa?” she asked forlornly.

“Because he’s weak!” Frieza was suddenly beside the two females. He watched, helplessly as that clawed alabaster-skinned hand reached out and caressed Bra’s cheek as he gazed upon her young face with avarice. “Oh yes.” Frieza said, almost to himself, “You’ll make a fine addition to my Forces girl.”

He tried to rise up, but his body was broken. Something pinned him to the ground, with a start he realized it was a metal rod. Instinctively, he reached to pull it out.

“Don’t do it.” Bulma suddenly cautioned, staring at him with empty eyes. “You’ll bleed out”

“Bulma.” he called, but she was unresponsive. She was dead inside, like he had been for all those years after his planet’s demise, trying to fill the void with violence and death.

“See Vegeta. This is why you cannot have nice things. You cannot help but break them in the end.” Frieza mocked. “You don’t deserve a family. Not with how many families you have already slaughtered. You’ll never be worthy of one. So I’ll just do you a favor and put this one out of her misery for you.”

A blood-stained hand burst from Bulma’s chest and her face twisted in agony, before her features went lax and she slumped to the ground, the puddle of red growing steadily larger around her.

“Bulma!” he cried out, crawling towards her despite his own debilitating injuries.

He reached her, and she was suddenly above him, a concerned frown on her brow.

“Shhh” she comforted and laid something white and cool on his forehead. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.” Something cold slid up his arm, and his vision started to fade.

“M’sorry… I couldn’t ...protect… our son.” he managed to get out, before the blackness took him once more.

* * *

Bulma watched the crease between his brows smooth out as he succumbed to unconsciousness. Courtesy of the dose of sedative she had just administered via his IV.

It had been less than six hours since his admittance. When Bulma finally showed up at the hospital, Vegeta was already in surgery and poor Bra was being interrogated by the nurse about Vegeta’s particulars, for administrative purposes. Bulma decided that this was as good a time as any to step in and introduced herself (not that she needed much introduction, given her fame, but as her mother would say: courtesy cost nothing). Then she went on to explain about the unique physiology of their current patient and requested to be allowed to speak to the head surgeon so that she may hand over the blood that she extracts from Vegeta monthly for just such a purpose, in case a transfusion is needed.

The surgery went off without a hitch, largely thanks to the miracles of Saiyan physiology, much as she was loath to give any sort of credit to Vegeta. He was soon transferred to a private room to sleep off the anestesia.

She had been working steadily at his bedside in West City General Hospital when he started thrashing and mumbling in his sleep. She heard her name a few times. When he started becoming really agitated she figured it was time to intervene. 

His words before he succumbed to sleep had her own brow furrowing in confusion, more than that the sincerity and sadness in his eyes as he apologised,  _ actually _ apologised, made her heart flutter with hope… and tenderness. Kami. She really hoped that it wasn’t just the drugs talking. That the brief depth of emotion he showed her was something she would be able to see once again. 

She hoped he would sleep peacefully now and that whatever demons he was battling saw fit to leave him alone for a few more hours.

* * *

“I can’t believe you Vegeta,” Bulma muttered as she rewound his bandages around his chest. “I damn well told you that the machine can only take so much as at max gravity before it becomes unstable, and you went and ignored my cautionary advice anyway. Now look at you.”

“Woman, I’m fine. A little explosion isn’t nearly enough to off the Prince of all Saiyans.”

“Oh really, and I suppose  _ this _ ” she poked at his wound and he hissed, “Is just a tiny little scrape of no consequence.” He glared at her.

“Exactly.” he bit out through clenched teeth.

“Oh you’re so full of it.” 

“If by ‘full of it’, you’re referring to my awesomeness, then I completely agree.” he retorted with a smug grin.

“Kami, I just want to strangle you sometimes.”

“You can try, Woman... I might just like it.”

“Ugh! You’re the most arrogant, egotistical, overbearing, pretentious-”

“Gods in the heaven, Woman, don’t you ever shut up?!”

“Try and make me, you jerk. I might just like it.”

And he did. He had her on her back in an instant. Mouth covering hers as he took in, for the first time, the taste of her lips. She tasted like that red little berry she loved so much and he couldn’t get enough, licking and sucking on those plump lips and that sweet tongue until he was dizzy with arousal.

His clothes were gone, and so was hers and he was settled into the juncture of her thighs, her wetness coating him and slickening the slide of his erection though her folds as he grinded against her.

“Please.” she whined and lifted her hips, notching him at her opening. It was oh so tempting to flex his hips and bury himself in her heat, but…

“Bulma,” he whispered hoarsely, his whole body trembling with the need to fuck, but he had questions. Pertinent ones. “Are you on any pregnancy-preventatives?”

She froze beneath him, her frantic hips stilling. He looked into her eyes and saw the truth in them before she answered “No” He sighed.

“That’s okay, right?” she suddenly spoke, sounding a bit desperate, “I mean, it’s not the right time in my cycle for it and if it does happen… well, I guess then it’s meant to, don’t you think?”

“Bulma,” he said, frustration clear in his voice as he sat back on his calves, “I… can’t. I don’t want any brats.”

“What do you mean, Vegeta? I thought you liked Bra. Don’t you want her to exist in this timeline?”

“The girl is… fine. I just can’t risk it. Risk what happened in that other timeline.”

Bulma suddenly sat up from underneath him as well until she mirrored his position. She sighed.

“What do you want most in the universe, Vegeta?” she asked, eyes solemn.

“To become the Legendary. To surpass it. To defeat my enemies. To defeat Kakarot.” he answered immediately, to which his reply was a sad smile.

“You want to become a super saiyan. Such an achievement is not without cost. If it’s truly what you want Vegeta, then you have to be willing to pay the price.” she said, drawing him towards her and laying back down.

“What… what are you saying, woman?” he sputtered incredulously, “You do realise what you’re asking of me, right? What you’re asking of yourself?”

“If you truly want the power, Vegeta Prince of Saiyans,” she replied calmly, almost eerily so, “You need to be willing to make the sacrifice.”

“Are you cra-” he stopped mid-rant, as he noticed a drop of red suddenly appearing on her chest. The drop turned into a puddled that started flowing from a large wound on her chest. 

“What the - Bulma?” he asked, distressed, automatically trying to staunch the flow of it with his hands. When the blood continued flowing from underneath them he grabbed for the sheet, only to notice that his arm, his whole body was glowing with a golden aura. Instinctively, he looked towards the mirror, and saw that his hair had turned bright gold and that his eyes were shining teal… did he... do it? And then he noticed that he was still leaning over Bulma, and that the blood was now flowing over the side of the bed to drip to the floor. He saw, in their reflection, her hand reach toward his cheek and try to turn his face towards her now deathly pale one, he briefly noted the streak of red she left on the side of his face before he caught her eyes.

“It’s… what you wanted most, is it not?” she asked softly, almost inaudible. “It will be worth it, right?”

On his next breath he was staring up at white ceiling. His brain struggled to process his new surroundings until he caught a flash of blue in his peripheral.

Bulma was resting on her arms at his side. Blue curls were spread all over the sheets of his bed… or cot, rather he noted as he finally took in his surroundings. He seemed to be in a primitive medical facility of some sort. He tried to lever himself upward, but abandoned that idea as a surprising stab of pain in his side caused him to hiss out and clutch at the space as memories started flooding back.

It took awhile for him to sort through the images flashing through his mind, to what was real and what were hallucinations… The Gravity Chamber exploded. He was run through with a metal rod. Bulma was alive. They had no son. Frieza was dead. He sighed and was about to run his hand through his hair when something snagged on his arm, causing a pinch of pain. His brow furrowed as he caught sight of the plastic tubes against his arm.

“The fuck’s this shit?” he muttered in a voice raspy from disuse. It woke up the blue haired scientist at his side who peered at him blearily.

“Why is it every time I see you, you’re busy pulling things from your body that aren’t meant to be pulled?” she said through gritted teeth.

Vegeta froze, hand poised to do exactly that, but at her admonishment his grip on the line slackened. “I don’t know, Woman. Why every time I wake up there are things stuck in me that have no business being there?”

“The first was due to your own stupidity-”

“You mean your shoddy workmanship?”

“How many times did I tell you not to overtax that machine, you reckless nincompoop?!”

“We’re getting extra creative with the insults today, I see,” Vegeta said with a smirk.

“Shut it short-stack! And Kami-dammit, stop fucking with your IV line!”

“It’s a nuisance, just like some blue-haired bitch I know.” He retorted and with a final yank, ripped the tube and needle out.

“Well, us nuisances are good for providing medical care and essential nourishment to arrogant assholes.”

“I can heal fine on my own, and I can find my own nourishment. Preferably to be taken orally.”

“Ugh! You Saiyans are incorrigible!”

“And you’re exasperating.”

They were both breathing hard. Eyes flashing. Emotions crackling through the air, and not for the first time, Vegeta caught himself marveling at her beauty. She was absolutely breathtaking when she was angry. As if sensing the change in his mood, Bulma’s features suddenly morphed into smug satisfaction.

“Ok Bad man.” she drawled, “If I’m  _ sooo  _ exasperating, why were you moaning my name in your sleep?” 

“What?!” he sputtered, taken aback. “I… I did not.” he denied vehemently.

“Did too,” she teased. “Why, Prince! Were you having naughty dreams about me?” she said and wiggled her eyebrows slyly. Vegeta felt his face flame as he struggled to form a coherent reply. 

“Tch.” he spat instead, crossing his arms over his chest. She giggled, and his eyes drifted to the window in petulance. The doctor chose that opportune moment to walk in. He stopped at the threshold. Looked from the IV lines lying discarded on the tiled floor to Vegeta.

“I see our patient is feeling better.” he stated. 

“Yes.” Bulma answered. “I think you can go ahead and arrange his discharge.”

“I’ll do so right away, Dr. Briefs.”

As soon as the doctor left her heard her sigh. He peeked at her. The playfulness seemed to have left her, replaced by what Vegeta could only guess as weariness.

“I guess we’re going home then” she finally said and left the room shortly afterwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m on a freakin roll here, people. If my life were an avatar in Sims 4, both my tea brewer and shower would be spitting sparks from all the thoughtful showers and healthy green teas I’ve been taking these last two days. #so_inspired. I just pray the muses will bless me with enough inspiration for at least two more chapters ‘cause I have plans...


	9. Who Said Recuperation's No Fun?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “And the Author said let there be smuts. And there was. And it was good… but not for those sensitive to explicitness. So Beware!” - Nelzi
> 
> The time has come, faithful readers, for Transcendence!  
> I, your benevolent Author, hath decided to make the change. To elevate this piece of literary art to the next level, which is Category E. So heed the Warning in the above prophecy, but fear not my innocent followers/subscribers, all decency is not lost. You can find the milder version of this chapter on fanfiction.net

The following week was spent partly on rebuilding the Gravity Chamber, partly on shooing the headstrong prince back to his bed every time they caught him outside, training when he was supposed to be recuperating.

This also gave Bulma an opportunity to incorporate more of the advanced training features into the new design of the Gravity Chamber. Features that she’d found in her counterpart’s data. Vegeta was going to freak when she told him about the upgrades, she thought gleefully. In her sleuthing, she also managed to find some video recordings and statistical records of future-Vegeta’s training. Naturally she had to watch it, curious about the man that might one day be her long term lover and father of her children. 

She was transfixed from the moment she pressed ‘play’. Present Vegeta was hot, no doubt about that, but this older, more distinguished, more ripped, more… everything Vegeta of the future: he was scorching!

She’d never seen Vegeta smile. A genuine smile. It was always a smirk or malicious or sadistic grin, but he seemed to do it often if Bra was in the room training with him. She even witnessed a tender moment between the pair when Bra managed to fly for the first time. The date stamp on the video put her at about four years of age and she was just oh so adorable in her own little pink leotard and a serious expression that was the complete likeness of her father. It made her ovaries tingle. She watched, fascinated as a small white power aura formed around the toddler as she scrunched her face in concentration. Then slowly, ever so slightly she started levitating until she was hovering about four feet in the air. 

“I did it! Papa, look, I’m flying.”

“Yes, Princess I see that. Congratulations.” 

The toddler whooped and dove into her father’s arms who caught her with a little huff. He settled her comfortable on his side and then looked at her in apparent wonder.

“I’m proud of you, Eschalot.” he said quietly and the little girl beamed then hugged him so hard that if it was her she’d have probably been choked out.

“I love you, Papa.” the little voice said from in the Saiyan’s neck and Bulma felt her eyes get teary. She watched Vegeta’s face intently. He didn’t say it back, but the tenderness in his eyes were hard to miss.

She was glad that the recording has sound. The later ones didn’t. She reckoned the mic probably got damaged at a later date.

She also managed to dig out something she was sure future-her didn't mean to leave on the drive… or maybe she did, because it was buried in one of the encrypted folders and could probably not have been cracked by anyone but Bulma herself. 

The training video started like all the others: Vegeta in a dark-red tank and light grey sweatpants that was probably meant to sit loosely on a body, but conformed indecently to those thick legs and shapely ass of his. He was doing his warm-up kata under intense gravity when the center console suddenly started smoking. The camera mounted in the ceiling showed his face as he turned to glare at the malfunctioning equipment. After he turned the machine off he punched something into the buttons on a keypad situated on the wall next to a door. The image was grainy but she barely managed to make out a blur of a person he spoke to on the other end of the comm-panel. It was barely three minutes later when the wall opened and she saw her older self enter the room in faded red overalls and carrying a toolbox. Her counterpart’s hair was cut in a short bob similar to the style she wore on Namek, but without the bangs. For a moment, it seemed like some things never changed especially when what followed was a very familiar exchange consisting of heated words and a lot of shouting. This one didn’t have sound, but Bulma could probably make a very accurate guess of what was being said, but her eyes widened in surprise when, quick as a snake, Vegeta suddenly grabbed at her top and dragged her roughly to his face. Bulma’s heart rate picked up as the other her was suddenly nose to nose with Vegeta as he sneered something at her. Then, in a complete about-face their lips were unexpectedly melded together in a kiss so passionate it took her own breath away and next she saw, her legs were around Vegeta’s hips and he was holding her up by her butt, walking slowly towards the wall and pressing her up against it.

Here Bulma had to pause and get her breath under control. Hot damn! She thought as that tell-tale tingle between her thighs became an insistent throb. Bulma bit her thumb nervously as she contemplated the video. It felt… voyeuristic, yet at the same time she somehow felt entitled to it. She glanced at the play bar to note that it was over an hour long. Great Kami! She suddenly looked around guiltily, calculating the chances that someone might disturb her. It was pretty high, so she unplugged the device from its charger, closed it and left the lab.

Settled comfortably in her bed, Bulma worked up the nerve to hit the play button once more, and there she sat, enraptured, as it all unfolded.

The Vegeta on the screen’s hand suddenly shot out and hit something on the comms panel on the wall and the lights around the couple went red.

 _Well_ , she mused. _This gives a whole new meaning to the ‘do not disturb’ lighting_ she thought, but continued watching nonetheless. The overall zippers were slowly parted to reveal absolutely nothing underneath. Seems her counterpart’s intentions weren’t as innocent as she had first thought. Sneaky Bulma. And damn! At - she glanced at the date stamp of the video - 47 years of age her body was still rocking. It had to be natural, Bulma thought. She didn't think there would be any plastic surgeons left by then. _Yay me! I’m going to be a total MILF!_

Before her engrossed eyes, Vegeta suddenly dropped to his knees before the now completely naked Bulma and without preamble lifted one leg over his shoulder and dove right in. Bulma squirmed in her seat as she watched the pleasure playing out on her own slightly older features. Her one hand was fisted in that slightly subdued flame-shaped hair while the other was pressed to the wall behind her while she bucked her pelvis against his working mouth. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly, her eyes were hooded, open mouth greedily sucking in breaths and probably exhaling them in lewd moans if she knew herself at all. Kami, she was hot. Both on screen and off. She shifted positions to try and ease the ache in her core.

On-screen Bulma’s hips suddenly started moving more frantically and her lips started moving soundlessly. If she paid attention, Bulma could read all the pleas, Kamis and Yeses spilling shamelessly from those lips, but she was more interested in watching Vegeta, whom she was seeing with new eyes. He was pleasuring her counterpart with a single minded intensity that she was used to seeing directed at his own training… but this. She wanted _this_ ! The hand that had been up until now moving between Bulma’s thighs suddenly shot out and gripped the knee of the leg that was still on the floor as it started trembling and his eyes shot up to watch the face of his lover as she climaxed, all the while his mouth continued working tirelessly at her core. It lasted… a while. She, herself had never had an orgasm that lasted _that_ long. And it was far from over.

He had her against the wall. Then on the floor and then he bent her over the console while he fucked her from behind. The last time, after almost an hour had elapsed, he came, and she watched his face while he did, all the while wishing that she was the one that put that look on his face. It was strange, being envious of yourself, but man was she jealous, especially as they spent quite a few minutes afterwards kissing languorously. Him cupping her chin and lifting it towards his face while he still stood behind her, arm around her waist. They were very clearly in love. 

_I want that!_ she thought desperately, _and I’m going to have it by Kami._

 _But first things first…_ Bulma was suddenly at her bedside table rifling through the drawer there. Her hand found something soft and rubbery and she closed her grip and drew out her silicone vibrator.

* * *

It was torture, keeping himself up and spinning under 180Gs. His side burned and his cuts were stinging, but he pushed through. He needed to get stronger. He wouldn’t be a failure in this timeline. 

The giant display suddenly lit up the oppressive red space and the woman’s face came into view, looking royally pissed.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Vegeta?” she greeted.

“You have eyes, woman. Use them.” he answered nonchalantly.

She looked taken aback for a moment, then her shoulders visibly lifted on a sigh “Kami save me from stubborn masochists.” she pleaded to no one in particular. Then to him she said, “You do realize that you have barely three inches of your body not covered by bandages. What in the world made you think that you were in any condition to train?”

Vegeta kept his steady pinwheel rotation going and selected not to answer. 

“I’m serious, Vegeta. You’re injured. You should be resting.”

“I’m Saiyan, I should be training to get stronger and become a super saiyan.” he retorted, then on mid rotation he felt a twinge of pain in his side causing his concentration to break and he fell from the air to land heavily on his hands and knees. The impact made him cry out.

“Vegeta!” she called frantically.

“Damned distracting female” he muttered under his breath as he attempted to gain his bearing. His side was killing him.

“What was that?” Bulma inquired, a noticeable smugness in her tone. “I thought, I heard you say that I was right. Now shut down that damned machine and get your ass back in bed.”

“I said,” Vegeta said, panting with effort, “to leave me the hell alone!”

Bulma looked shocked at his outburst for a short moment, then her expression turned hurt, and then finally, she looked resolved.

“Well, If that’s how you want it. I’ll just leave and take my legitimate concern elsewhere. Just don’t come crying to me when you’re a pancake on the floor of the GT. I won’t lift a finger to help you.” she sniffed haughtily and started to walk off.”

Vegeta’s victory however, was short lived as he collapsed just as she left the frame.

A few minutes later he was sitting on his bed while the woman was applying a healing gel to some of his previous injuries.

“I told you you’re not ready, but do you listen to me? Oh no! I’m just the most intelligent woman on the planet. What the hell would I know?” she was lecturing. Vegeta remained quiet. At his silence, Bulma sighed and her ministrations stilled. “How are you feeling?” she asked, and it was sincerity in her tone that caused him to answer at last.

“Like I’ve been punched through a planet… Everything hurts.”

After a while she offered: “I can run you a soothing bath if you wish?” and he tensed.

“Why do you care, Woman?”

“What?”

“I can take a bit of pain… more than a bit. I don’t need your help to take care of myself. I don’t need a gods damned bath either.”

Another heavy sigh. “I know that you’re very good at surviving Vegeta, but you and I do not have the same understanding of ‘taking care’ of oneself. Why would you needlessly suffer and cause yourself injury like this?”

“The more we hurt, the more we gain. I’ve heard that earth has a sentiment very similar to that.”

“No pain, no gain?”

“Exactly, and for a Saiyan that’s especially true. The more grievous the injury. The greater the power boost we derive from it.”

“Seriously?” she asked, incredulous. He smirked in reply.

“Okay.” she conceded finally, “I still think you should heal up first before you go destroying yourself again. I don’t know about Saiyan physiology, but studies on human biology show that you improve faster with equal amounts of rest and training. We cannot go breaking down our bodies before they’ve had a chance to repair themselves sufficiently.”

“Hmm” he grunted non-committedly.

“Wanna know something interesting? I actually have records of your future counterpart’s training and his improvement statistics dating back 10 years. There’s video surveillance too. I found it on the drive future-me sent.”

Vegeta suddenly sat up straighter, excitement bubbling in his belly despite his injuries.

“Show me.” he demanded.

“Ah-ah ah.” she said, wagging a taunting finger. “You’ll first have to consent to that bath.”

Vegeta cocked his head sideways, contemplative before baring his teeth and a slightly sadistic grin. “Only if you’ll join me” and he watched with no little pleasure as a blush spread across her cheeks.

“It’s… not that sort of bath.” she stammered her reply.

“No? Too bad”

Unfortunately for him, Bulma recovered from her embarrassment rather quickly, vulgar thing that she was.

“My my Vegeta.” she tutted, “And here I thought you a complete prude. Prince’s got some Game, it seems. Interesting.” She sat back and crossed her arms under her chest, probably purposefully squishing her breasts together to draw his attention. Her one knee was hiked over the other, baring more of her creamy thigh in her customarily short skirt. The posture was predatory - a lure. She was baiting him and watched him knowingly with a sultry little grin, tapping her index finger on her bottom lip. “Tell you what, Princy” she started as Vegeta tried his damndest to control his body’s reaction “I’ll take a rain check on that bath if you let me help you get better. After all, I’m a woman who likes to be treated a certain way and I just don’t think you’ll be able to… measure up in your current condition.” she proposed, words dripping with innuendo. She was dead serious too. Seems she’d grown tired of their teasing, Vegeta thought as he considered her offer.

If he considered the trajectory of their future deeds given their current interaction he could see no other outcome. He would fuck her. It was inevitable. The problem, as future-self likely also encountered, was that he didn’t think he would be able to stop fucking her after they cross that bridge. Chemistry is not something that goes away spontaneously, and they had heaps of chemistry. His ability to reason was slowly fizzling away as it seems that the woman had finally discovered the painfully hard erection that he attempted to hide from her and was slowly, sensually tracing its outline with a manicured nail.

“I think ‘measured’ was the wrong word to use in my previous proposal.” she whispered, her breath feathering over his cheek. “So, what do you say, my Prince? Are we doing this, or what?”

His next words were swallowed on a sharp inhale when without warning she reached into his shorts and wrapped a hand around his shaft stroking hard from his base to his tip, eliciting an involuntary “Fu-uck” from his lips. The she-devil dared to giggle and he felt her wet mouth envelope his earlobe sucking slightly before letting go. “I would have preferred a simple ‘yes’, Vegeta but that works too I guess.” she teased.

“You’re playing with fire, Bulma” he warned, his voice already deep with desire. The hand on his dick suddenly stalled, and he turned to her to find her watching him seriously.

“I’m not afraid to get burned, Vegeta” she replied, almost solemnly. “Are you?”

The decision was made in an instant, and she must have seen it in his eyes because next he knew she was straddling his lap and her mouth was on his. The kiss was hot and deep and flamed by all the pent up frustration their teasing little games had wrought these last few weeks. He couldn’t get enough of her taste and sucked voraciously on her tongue when she slipped it between his parted lips. His one hand flew up to that mess of blue curls on her head, digging in haphazardly as he tried to steer their kisses in his favor. The other settled on that lush ass, squeezing and pushing her panty-covered pussy harder into his aching dick. She moaned into his mouth when he flexed his hips and set a steady rhythm.

It wasn’t enough.

He needed to be inside her. To feel her naked flesh sliding over his, feel her wet sheath pulsing around him when he drove her over the edge.

That thought in mind, he tugged slightly on her hair until their mouths separated. He was pleased to see the glazed look in her eyes and the warm flush that turned that pretty white skin a beautiful rosy pink. He gripped her hips and lifted, and was about to put her flat on her back, but as he started to twist a sharp pain spasmed through his side and he winced.

It effectively ended the mood because Bulma immediately switched to obsessive hovering mode. Asking if he was alright. Was it his injuries? and Where does it hurt? Gods Dammit, he thought with a sigh.

“I’m fine, Woman. Stop pestering me.”

“Well,” she said after a while, sitting lamely at his side, “that nearly got out of hand.”

“If I recall correctly, it was very much _in hand_.” he retorted. Bulma barked a laugh and Vegeta found his lips twitching in shared mirth, before dropping down to lay on his back. He felt her eyes on him, but he kept his own gaze on the ceiling, unsure of what exactly was to happen now. He still wanted her, but obviously that wasn’t an option at this point in time. He found himself wondering if she felt the same, or if she considered the event a momentary lapse of judgement. He was too proud to ask. He felt her get up from beside him.

“I’d say it’s a good thing that the ‘soothing’ bath I’m preparing you is going to be filled with ice.” Bulma said as she walked out.

“With what?!” he said, raising himself to his elbows to stare dubiously at her retreating form. She just smirked at him over her shoulder.

“And for the record. I’m still taking that rain check.” were her final words as she exited his bedroom.


	10. Bandages on Boo-Boos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think an alternative title for this chapter would be 'Blocked'... nuff said.
> 
> Also this chapter was heavily inspired by one of nala1588’s nfsw vegebul fanart. If you’ve seen it you’ll know it when reading this. I’m therefore dedicating this chapter to nala1588.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following chapter will be more smut-heavy than the last. Like 90% of this chapter is smut. Sorry not sorry.  
> Just a, erm… ‘heads’ up.
> 
> Hah! I’m so punny. By the way, you won’t find this version of events on ffn. It’s censored. Ya know - rules and all that.

The next week went by alternatively with Vegeta being stitched and bandaged up or chased out of the GT, which he was very reluctant to leave since the thing had been upgraded. Needless to say he did not like being kept from what he essentially thought of as his new toy. Unfortunately the woman had roped his future-self’s teenaged spawn from hell into enforcing the ban on his training. The brat had no qualms about physically removing him from the ship, damn her. If it were anyone but his own progeny, he would be majorly pissed at being outranked by a child. 

Which was how he found himself in his current predicament: sitting on the on-grounds infirmary bench, trying not to wince every time the blue haired harpy screeched at him for being a masochistic idiot at the same time she was applying antiseptic salve on his latest wounds.

“I swear, it’s like talking to a rock!” she huffed, and followed the words with another dip in the ointment tin before swabbing more salve on the abrasion on his back. “I told you that the AI system in the drones was next level. I told you to start off on a lower setting and work your way up, and what do you do?” she continued rating as she started taping the wound with a bandage. “After deciding that ‘level one’ was too slow for you, you ramp it up four levels. Four. Whole. Levels. Are you crazy?!”

“Woman, stop bitching. I’m fine.”

“Yeah! Thank Kami I had the foresight to wipe the data already stored by the learning algorithm or you would have been toast! Did you know those bots were set to Future-You’s training regime and stats.”

To this, Vegeta heaved an exasperated sigh and idly wondered how long he still needed to be there. 

“You can be lucky that level five still has the failsafe that stops the bots from firing at your stubborn ass the moment you go down. Two more levels and you’d either be a smear on the floor or I’d be fishing you out of the rubble again. I -”

Her complaint was cut off by his mouth on hers as he yanked her to him by her wrist and swallowed her surprised gasp. Since her mouth was already open he took the opportunity to sweep his tongue into it and tangle it with hers. She didn’t put up an ounce of resistance. He heard the tin hit the floor as it fell from her hand and next she was winding her arms around his neck and her hands were in his hair and then she was kissing him back. Gods he loved her taste, he thought, and wrapped his arms around her, pulled her into him and heard her whimper as her belly came into contact with the hard length of his erection beneath his training shorts.

When he finally pulled her away a few long moments later, he was pleased to see that beautiful rosy flush was back on her cheeks. Her eyes were staring dazedly into his and her lips were shiny and puffy. He chuckled smugly. “Blessed silence. Thank the gods.”

He saw her brow furrow in confusion, before his words registered through the lust and he saw indignation bloom on her expressive face. She opened her mouth, but before she could go off again, he covered her mouth with his again, effectively interrupting her tirade. She melted just as easily the second time and he smirked against her lips.

This time she pulled away first, quite violently at that, yelling “Kami-dammit Vegeta!”

He was undeterred. Simply moved towards her neck, nipping on the flesh there, causing her to gasp, before trailing his tongue over the marks. “Kami!” she breathed, voice husky and low, “It’s not right that an asshole like you should be so good at kissing.” She panted. He ignored her, his mind currently occupied by the trail his tongue was taking towards her cleavage. She was wearing some V-neck type mini-dress with a small zip between her breasts trailing down to her waist. Convenient. He grabbed the little tab and watched the zipper teeth part, revealing the pink-lace covered globes of her perfectly plump tits. The material so thin he could see through it to where the milky white flesh turned dark around the pebbled apex of each breast. His hand went to one and he swiped the pad of his thumb over the erect peak. She sucked in a quick breath, pushing the fleshy mound deeper into his palm. His gaze shot up to her face and he watched in fascination as a little whimper escaped her lips when he did it again. That was all the confirmation he needed so he dipped his head and covered the other breast with his mouth, lathing her nipple roughly through the fabric while he tweaked and rolled the other one with his fingers. Her little whimper became a moan that had his cock twitching in his pants and her hands digging into his hair.

He was well into enjoying himself with his mouth on the other breast when he felt a tug on his hair and he let go to look at her.

“Under” she stated, then followed the request by leaning back in his arms. Her hands went to her chest, fingers gripping the garment between her breasts. She twisted and the fabric fell apart, her breasts spilling free. He spent a short moment admiring them: fleshy, full and tipped with delicious looking rosy pink peaks. His personal perusal was interrupted when he felt her hands on the side of his head, tugging him forward. He didn’t delay, and he felt and heard her sigh in pleasure when his mouth engulfed the sensitive crown of her now bared breast. He sucked. She hummed, then squirmed as he worked one breast with his mouth then switched to the other.

Then her one hand left his hair and grabbed his wrist. She then twined her fingers with his, her small hand cupping his big one and dragged it downwards. His mouth left her breast to watch the progress of their hands. 

She stepped one foot onto the step below the infirmary bed, stepped the other leg back in to widen her stance and he felt the silky skin of her inner thigh as she guided their hands between her legs. Then he felt the edge of the underwear at her crotch briefly before she pushed it aside until he felt… wet. Warm, wet, petal-soft skin and she was gliding his fingers slowly through it.

“I want you to fuck me with you fingers.” he heard her whisper and his gaze snapped to her. She was staring at him intently. Seriously. If he hadn’t already guessed it on his bed a week ago, her eyes right then would have affirmed it. They were most certainly done playing games. Before he could reply she let go of his hand, and hiked her skirt up over her hips. He, in turn, used the opportunity to yank her underwear down her hips, causing her to jerk. The panties didn’t go far since her one leg was still hiked up on the step. Undeterred, he simply grabbed the material at both hips and pulled, felt them tear and watched the tatters fall to the floor. Bulma gasped. 

“Vege-” but before any further protest could be made he had her up on the bench, straddling his lap. 

When he had her settled he leaned back, his back touching the wall, grabbed her hand again and entwined their fingers like she did earlier. Then he guided it back to the juncture of her spread thighs, through the wet folds he could now see was, below the little patch of blue hair, the same pretty pink as the dark skin on her tits, darkening further to almost red in certain parts.

“Woman” he said, tearing his gaze away to look at her face and watching her do the same. “Show me.”

“What?” she asked, looking at him befuddled.

“Show me.” he repeated firmly.

“I don’t… Vegeta?” her voice was now uncertain, “Have you never…” she continued cautiously.

“I’ve fucked plenty of females before, Bulma, from many different species” he answered her unfinished question. “The only thing they had in common was a hole to stick my dick into. The rest...” He trailed off and saw understanding dawn in her eyes. She bit her lip, seeming a bit unsure, but fortunately required no more explanations. Her hand tightened over his and his eyes fell back down to watch her slide their fingers through her nether lips. Then he felt the source of all that wet envelop his finger and hers as she slightly rocked her hips, breath hitching as she slid them inside her. 

She slid back up, positioned his hand then slid back down, two of his fingers now inside her. He watched, enraptured as she started rolling her hips over his hand, one hand on his shoulder for balance, the other on her pussy, rubbing tight circles on a swollen little nub on the top of her sex. When she lifted next he instinctively crooked the fingers inside her and she cried out, back arching.

“Like that?” he asked, his own voice so thick with lust he was barely coherent.

“Yes.” she breathed on a moan.

His dick was throbbing. The musky scent of her arousal saturated the air around him, further muddling his brain. Her scent, gods, it was... mouthwatering. Potently so. He’d never experienced such a strong physical reaction to female lust before. On a whim, he grabbed the hand that was working her sex, replaced her swirling finger with his thumb so she wouldn’t lose the stimulation, and brought it to his mouth - sucking on the finger that had been inside her. She gasped at the sensation.

Her taste hit his tongue, going straight to his dick. It swelled and leaked in excitement and his blood thrummed with need. The urge to bury himself between her legs rode him hard. His cock, his face, he couldn’t decide what he wanted more. All he knew was that he wanted  _ in  _ there. “Fuck.” he muttered, after the last of her taste disappeared off her fingers. 

Bulma was moving faster now, her hips churning with purpose, moaning loudly with every swirl. Her eyes were on his when he asked,

“You’ gonna cum riding my fingers, Woman?”

“Yes.” she gasped. Then kept repeating it over and over as she bounced on his hand, voice rising like the scales on an instrument. Then she threw back her head and moaned his name. Body jerking, thighs trembling. He could feel her cunt spamming round his fingers and gushing juices on his palm. And Vegeta forgot his own need for a moment and just reveled in the glory that was Bulma, orgasming. Then bizarrely he thought,  _ the Weakling is a fucking fool. _

After long moments she slumped forward, her head falling into his neck. She was breathing hard and there were droplets of sweat dotting her forehead. He felt it on his throat. If he didn’t know any better, Vegeta would think she was scent marking him. But since apparently human olfactory instruments do not pick up on mating pheromones, he figured it was probably unintentional. Nevertheless, his hand was drenched. His dick was so hard it hurt and all he could do was sit there and watch as her climax faded, the spasming around his fingers stilling.

“That was… so good.” she panted. “So. Fucking. Good. Kami I haven’t orgasmed like that in ages, if ever.” she said, lifting her face to his. She met his eyes, face flushed, eyes twinkling and announced “your turn” before scrambling off his lap to stand between his spread thighs with her hands on his thighs. She didn’t bother righting her disheveled clothes - her nudity unashamedly on display. She made quite an inviting sight from Vegeta’s vantage point.

One hand went up to trace the visible wet spot on his shorts before she said “Oh my” in a husky coo, “Someone sure got excited.” Then without preamble slipped her hand into his shorts and freed him.

“Hi there, big boy.” she purred, eyes sparkling strangely, then bent down and he felt her tongue lap at the wetness on his tip. He hissed. She hummed, gripped him firmly at the base then slipped his head past those kiss-swollen lips of hers and sucked him into her mouth. 

He groaned and his abdomen clenched in delectation. He leaned back further, intent on watching the show when his keen ears picked up soft footfalls heading towards them. 

“Shit” he muttered, and his next groan had nothing to with the fact that her hot mouth was slowly sucking more of his cock into it and everything to do with what he was about to do. Grabbing Bulma at the sides of her head, he went against every instinct currently raging in his body and pulled her mouth off him.

“Hey!” she whined.

“No time” he interrupted her, tucking himself back into his shorts. Noting with a panic that the fabric was tenting obscenely. He swore, but ignored it - he could already feel it softening - and instead pulled roughly at Bulma’s dress so that the fabric covered her lower half once more.

“What -” she started asking at the same time he heard the door of the infirmary open.

“Hey Old Man!” Bra’s voice drifted into the room, footsteps approaching their location. He saw Bulma’s eyes widen and her hands flew to the two pieces of her bra hanging loose at her sides. She spun around, back to the entrance and Vegeta jumped off the bench just as the brat entered.

“How bad did you hurt yourself this time?” she was saying as she walked into the room, but suddenly froze in her tread. Vegeta, who was at that time looking to the floor to make sure his boots covered both parts of Bulma’s ripped panties looked up as he heard her step falter. His eyes caught the motion of her rapid inhalations. Scenting.  _ Shit _ , he thought as he watched the scenario register in the young girl’s brain and her face suddenly turn beet red. Bulma bent to the floor, snagged something then spun back around, breasts thankfully all tucked away.

“Bra, sweetie… Uh, Vegeta’s just about done,” she spoke. “If you’ll give us a moment, I just have to wrap up his wound.”

“Uhm. That’s okay Mom. I’ll just come back later… or something.” she stammered, and turned on her heel before Bulma could say another word.

After a few moments of staring at the blank space Bra disappeared from, Bulma turned to him. “Do you think she knows-”

“She most definitely knows, Woman.”

“Crap” she said and bit her lip guiltily. Vegeta bent, retrieving the pieces of her panties from beneath his boots. Bulma looked at them intently when he placed them in her hand which he noted also held the tin of salve that she dropped earlier.

“Was that really necessary?” she asked, indicating her ruined underwear, her tone held more amusement than exasperation, Vegeta noted.

“They were in my way.” he deadpanned.

“Saiyans” she muttered, before tossing the underwear into the trash with the used bandages. Then she turned to him saying “Those wounds should be healed in about a day or two with your physiology. I’ll check on them tomorrow. Until then”

His labored breathing echoed through the room, his one fist was clenched tightly on his thigh the other was fisted in her hair.

“Fuck” he breathed on an exhale, “I should let you - hah -change my bandages... more often.” he said in strained voice as he peered down at his lap at her bobbing head. Being unable to speak at that time Bulma simply hummed her reply, the vibration causing pleasure to shoot straight up his spine. Unsatisfied with the obstruction her big hair was causing, he wrapped one hand around the teal mass of curls and twisted the whole lot around his index finger and out of the way. Much better, he thought as her face came into view and he could watch those plump little lips stretch wide around his cock.

“Yeah” he encouraged, as she took him three quarter of the way down, then sucked hard on the upstroke and ran her tongue around his crown as she reached his tip. His hips jerked involuntarily. She continued her onslaught and he continued his praise of her skill with a litany of dirty words.

“Fuck… your mouth, Woman. Feels so good. Yes. Suck it deeper…” and was surprised when on the last stroke she released him with a salacious ‘pop’. She sat back on her heels between his spread thighs.

“If you want me to deep-throat you Princey-poo, we’ll need to change venues. I’ll at least need a bed.” she said teasingly all the while running her tongue over the veins on the underside of his straining erection. She watched him while he contemplated this dilemma, stroking him with her hand.

“The brat has been a pest of late,” he suddenly explained, slumping back on the box he was seated on and stared at the ceiling as he contemplated the logistics of avoiding his ki-sensing progeny “She won’t leave me alone. At least in the infirmary I won’t have to worry about her checking on me, given what happened yesterday.

“Well, you do have a tendency to ignore sound medical advice… and we’re not exactly in the infirmary. We’re in the infirmary supply closet.”

“Semantics” he said dismissively.

He was still weighing up pros and cons of moving to the bedroom, absently twirling a lock of her hair around his finger when he felt something strange on his now slightly wilted erection. At first he couldn’t understand what in the world she was doing, but when he did… it was still bizarre enough to prompt him to say:

“Woman, what the fuck are you doing?”

“It was looking a little sad, Vegeta. So I thought I’d tie a bandage around it. Everyone knows bandages make everything better.” she replied mock seriously with an impish grin.

“It’s moments like these that I question your self-declared status as the most intelligent woman on the planet.” he deadpanned. She giggled and went back to servicing his cock, teasingly licking it like a popsicle, bandage notwithstanding. She swirled her tongue around the tip and sucked the head into her mouth, then traced her tongue down towards his testicles and gave them the same attention.

He indulged her teasing for a few more seconds until, well, no one has ever accused the Prince of Saiyans of being a patient male. His grip tightened in her hair and he lifted her face to his.

“Woman,” he said warningly, “stop playing around and suck my cock like you mean it.” he ordered.

She sat back and looked at him intently and very deliberately whispered: “Yes Daddy” and her fingers started tugging on the bandage. Before she could get very far in her endeavor, he pulled on her hair again, dragging her gaze back to his and whispering “Why does that word make me want to throw you over my knee, spank your ass red and then fuck you till you scream?”

She swallowed, then bit her lip sensually before replying “Yes, please.”

“Fuck” he hissed through gritted teeth. He was about to hall her up to his bedroom, pestering progeny be damned, when the door suddenly slid open. If Vegeta weren’t so preoccupied with his current situation, he would have noticed the Weakling’s ki arriving on the compound grounds. Unfortunately, since he was currently  _ very _ preoccupied, the opening of the door was the only warning he had before their… activities were interrupted.

“Shit” he gasped as he looked up and caught the dark eyes of none other than the woman’s former lover, Yamcha. For an instant he went completely blank as his mind was trying to decide whether he should be gloating that the woman Scarface obviously still wanted was currently kneeling between his thighs, hand on his dick, or if he should vaporize the man for witnessing him in such an undignified position - the undignified part being that his dick was still sporting a gauzy fucking bow forfucksakes!

Then Yamcha’s eyes dropped to the woman and there it locked for a moment, then widened and just as suddenly trailed away.

“I uhm,” he stammered, not meeting their eyes, “I… I’ll just go.” he said, put action to words and hurried off.

After he left, Bulma turned a wide-eyed gaze on him. They stared at each other in silence for a moment before his lips quirked in mirth. Bulma pursed her own lips, attempting to look contrite but failing miserably. She then cleared her throat awkwardly before stating:

“So… that just happened.” 

Vegeta just shook his head in exasperation. To be honest, he was feeling a bit awkward himself, but damned if he showed it. Although, he was thinking that he might also be failing miserably in his efforts to hide it for he could feel the heat creep up his face and to his ears. 

“Take this shit off, will you.” he ordered gruffly and watched her slip the ‘bandage’ off his now slightly softened dick.

“Rain check?” she asked suddenly. Her voice chipper as she tucked him back in his shorts.

“You and your fucking rain checks.” he muttered, helping her up to her feet when she reached a hand out to him. He watched her smooth her dress back over her hips, covering her stripy pink panties, his lips turned down in disappointment and he lamented the fact that the universe kept on finding ways to cock-block him in the worst ways. 

“You do realize that makes two interrupted blowjobs in two days, don’t you?” he said with a sigh. 

“Foiled again” she replied on a grin.

“I really don’t find this funny,” he sniffed.

“I know. These interruptions are really starting to become ridiculous.” she puffed. “I mean, first Bra, then my  _ Mom  _ of all people, and now Yamcha! What are the chances? You think the universe is trying to tell us something?”

He grunted in reply, all the while thinking that the universe can go fuck itself.

It’s been little more than a week after he’d decided to stop fighting the pull of the Woman and put them both out of their sexually frustrated misery. Since that first attempt - foiled by his own sorry state, no less, they’ve been interrupted, three times now, the last time, not counting this one, by Bulma’s mother bringing clean laundry to his room while the woman was straddling him on his bed in nothing but her panties, which were moments away of becoming confetti.

“Don’t mind me dears, I’ll be out of your hair in a jiffy” was all the ditsy blonde said as she went about her business invading his domain, placing his laundered clothes and towels on the desk and breezing right back out with a “carry on you two”. Then there’s the fact that the brat kept popping up every time he trained, to check on him and make sure he was not overdoing it. Even if he wasn’t training she still showed up and pestered him, talking a mile a minute about everything under the sun, which culminated in the incident in the infirmary the previous day. And now this. Suffice to say, now that he actually made the decision to take her to bed, everyone and their mother - literally - got in his way and his balls really were not happy with this turn of events.

It ended today. He decided, mentally taking stock of the state of his injuries. They were mostly healed and should no longer be an obstruction. Catching Bulma’s wrist as she turned to leave the room, he waited until she turned back and caught his eyes before stating.

“You’ll come to my room tonight. And whatever earthlings do to prevent pregnancy, you’ll do that too.”

She smirked. “Will I now?” she sassed in reply.

He took a step into her space, cupped her jaw between thumb and index finger and turned her face to his. “You’ll come.” he reiterated staring intensely into her clear blue eyes and noted her one eyebrow go up and her smirk get wider. 

“Oh, I’m counting on it Princey.” she stated. “And I’m on the pill.”

“The hell’s that?”

“Artificial hormonal supplements human women take to prevent pregnancy.” 

“See you tonight, Woman.” He huffed, let go of her jaw and walked out to door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick note ppl: I've decided to take a leap of faith and started writing an original work. I'll be focused mostly on that, so updates might be coming a bit slower from now on.


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